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ELEMENTARY 
ORAL 






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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




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ELEMENTARY 



MORAL LESSONS, 



FOR 



SCHOOLS AND FAMILIES. 



BY 



OT. F. COWDERT, 

rUPERINTEXDENT OF PUBLIC SCHOOLS, SATSDTJSKT, OHIO. 



The Good alone are Great. 



SANDUSKY: 
BILL, COOKE AND COMPANY, PRINTERS. 

1855. 






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V 



&\*« 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, by 

M. F. COWDEEY, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Northern District 

of Ohio. 



PREFACE. 



Ill the preparation of a series of volumes on Mora] 
Instruction for the use of eJ asses in schools, the following 
positions are assumed : 

First — That an important department of education — 
that which relates to social duties and moral obligations 
— is at present, to a large extent, neglected. 

Second — That, in conducting the work of moral culture, 
important principles and precepts need illustration and 
exemplification by real and supposed instances of con- 
formity to them, or departure from them, as well as, and 
as much as, propositions in mathematics, or the other 
sciences'? 

It would be quite an uninteresting, if not a repulsive 
exercise, for the teacher to assure and re-assure his pupils 
that the "product of the means would always equal the 
product of the extremes" in a proportion, and then leave 
them to grope their way through the application of the 
principle without further illustration or aid from the skill 
and resources of the teacher, or from the storehouse of 
human wisdom. 

Is it any more rational to teach, or rather, to fell a 
child, that "virtue leads to happiness," or that "sincerity 
and truth form the basis of every virtue," and then leave 
him to ascertain the truth of these propositions by bitter 



4 PREFACE. 

experience, and perhaps, a life of disappointment, humil- 
iation and sorrow, instead of presenting to his intellect 
and to his sensibilities, during all the early years of his 
life, such rich, varied, living exemplifications of specific 
virtues, as shall lead him to love, and aid him to practice, 
the same virtues? 

Third — Reason and experience unite in demanding that- 
moral culture for the child, the youth or the adult, should 
receive a portion of time and attention every day. It 
would be quite appropriate, also, to add, that this labor 
should stand first in the order of importance, that the 
highest skill of the teacher should be expended here, and 
that parents, school authorities and society, should unite 
in demanding of every teacher both personal moral worth, 
and the ability to promote the growth of the moral nature 
of others, as a pre-requisite to all other qualities and at- 
tainments in his profession as a teacher. 

Fourth — It is assumed and thoroughly believed, that 
moral culture, to such an extent as to enlist the sympa- 
thies, form the early sentiments, and, in a great degree to 
control the motives and conduct, is entirely practicable in 
a regular course of Common School instruction. The ob- 
jections which are supposed to exist to the introduction 
of this subject to all classes of pupils, have little or no 
foundation in reality. The difficulty is in the want of 
proper love for the subject, or the requisite skill, or the 
necessary prudence, or the proper aids in this work, on 
the part of the teacher. It is claimed that a text book. 
and preparation of lessons, and a regular recitation hour, 



PREFACE. 5 

arc as necessary here as ill arithmetic. Any instruction 
given upon important subjects, should be regular and 
systematic. 

The present volume is intended to aid teachers in a 
general presentation of those common virtues and duties 
which require very early attention. It is also intended 
as an introduction to a more full discussion and a more 
close practical application of right principles to motives 
and conduct, in two subsequent volumes. 

It is recommended that, in addition to the regular 
preparation of each lesson by the pupil, that the narra- 
tives should be occasionally read by the class, or, what 
is often quite as well, that some pupil, or pupils, be selec- 
ted to give from memory, the principle incidents of each 
of the narratives introduced. The sympathies thereby 
awakened, and the general impression made, will often, 
in this way, be considerably increased. 

It will, of course, be presumed, that the thoughtful 
teacher will present other questions than such as may be 
found in the book, and, thereby, more completely adapt 
instruction to the wants and capacities of his or her pupils. 

It would be highly gratifying to the author to be able 
to give proper credits for all the narratives introduced in 
the present volume, but as they have been selected from 
a great variety of sources, and from several years of 
reading and experience; and, in many cases, where the 
original source could not be well ascertained, the credits 
are, for the most, part omitted 

Sandlsky, Ohio, j 
November 12, 3855. \ 



CONTENTS. 



Preface, 

LESSON. 

I. Do unto others as you would have others do to you, 

II. Eepay all injuries with kindness, 

TIL A little wrong clone to another is a great wrong done 

to ourselves, 

IV. The noblest courage is the courage to do right, . 

V. Be slow to promise, but sure to perform, 

VI. Honor thy father and thy mother, 

VII. Think the truth,— speak the truth, — act the truth, 

VIII. Do good to all as you have opportunity, 

IX. Speak evil of no one, 

X. Carefully listen to conscience, and always obey its 
commands, • . . . 

XI. We must forgive all injuries as we hope to be forgiven, 

XII. Learn to help one another, 

XIII. The greatest conqueror is the self-conqueror, 

XIV. Swear not at all, 

XV. Be faithful to every trust, 

XVI. Be neat, 

XVII. Eight actions should spring from right motives, 
XVIII. Labor conquers all things, 

XIX. Be honest in "little things," upright in all things, 

XX. A persoil is known by the company lie keeps, 

XXI. Learn to deny yourself, 

XXII. Live usefully, 

XXIII. Be kind to the unfortunate, 

XXIV. Do right and fear not, 

XXV. Be merciful to animals, 

XXVI. It is better to suffer" wrong than to do wrong, . 
XXVII. It is more blessed to give than to receive, . 

XXVIII. Think no thoughts that you would blush to express 
in words, ... ..... 

XXIX. Live innocently if you would live happily, . 

XXX. "VVe must learn to love others as we love o^^^•selves, 

XXXI. The good alone are great 



18 

26 
32 
39 
47 
54 
62 
68 

76 
86 
93 
99 
107 
112 
119 
124 
131 
139 
147 
153 
160 
169 
178 
183 
189 
196 



203 
209 
215 



ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 



LESSON I 



DO UNTO OTHERS AS YOU WOULD HAVE OTHERS DO 
TO YOU. 

NARRATIVE. 

Noble Conduct. — A correspondent of the Blair Coun- 
ty (Pa.) Whiff, furnishes that paper with the particulars 
of the following interesting incident, of which he was an 
eye witness. It occurred a few years ago on the line of 
the great internal improvements of that State. It is one 
of those scenes of genuine kind-heartedness which till the 
mind with the involuntary consciousness that there is 
••something of the angel still in our common nature." 

At the point this side of the mountain, where occurred 
the transhipment of passengers from the West, was moored 
a canal boat, awaiting the arrival of the train ere starting 
on its way through to the East. The captain of the boat, 
a tall, rough, sun-embrowned man, stood by his craft, su- 
perintending the labors of his men, when the cars rolled 
up, and a few minutes after a party of about half a dozen 
gentlemen came out, and deliberately walking up to the 
captain, addressed him something after this wise: 

"Sir, we wish to go on east, but our farther progress 



10 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

to-day depends oil you. In the cars we have just left a 
sick man, whose presence is disagreeable. We have been 
appointed a committee by the passengers to ask that you 
will deny this man a passage in your boat. If he goes, we 
remain; what say you?" 

"Gentlemen," replied the captain. ;i l have heard the 
passengers through their committee. Has the sick man 
a representative here?" 

To this unexpected interrogatory there was no answer : 
when, without a moment's pause, the captain crossed over 
to the car, and entering, beheld in one corner a poor, 
emaciated, worn-out creature, whose life was nearly eaten 
up by that canker-worm, consumption. The man's head 
was bowed in his hands, and he was weeping; The cap- 
tain advanced and spoke to him kindly. 

"Oh! sir," said the shivering invalid, looking up, his 
face now lit with trembling expectations, "are you the 
captain, and will you take me? God help me! The 
passengers look upon me as a breathing pestilence, and 
are so unkind! You see, sir, I am dying; but oh! if I 
am spared to reach my mother, I shall die happy. She 
lives in Burlington, sir, and my journey is more than half 
performed. I am a poor painter, and the only child of 
her in whose arms I wish to die!" 

"You shall go," replied the captain, "if I loose every 
passenger for the trip." 

By this time the whole crowd of passengers were 
grouped around the boat, with their baggage piled on the 
path, and they themselves awaiting the decision of the 
captain before engaging their passage. 

A moment more and that decision was made known. 
as they beheld him coming from the cars with the sick 
man cradled in his arms. Pushing direct! a- through the 






DUTY TO OTHERS. 1 J 

crowd with his dying burden, he ordered a mattrass to be 
spread in the choicest part of the boat, where he laid tin 1 
invalid with all the care of a parent. That done, the cap- 
tain directed the boat to be prepared for starting. 

But a new feeling seemed to possess the astonished 
passengers — that of shame and contrition at their inhu- 
manity. With one common impulse they walked aboan I 
the boat, and in a few hours after another committee was 
sent to the captain, entreating his presence among the 
passengers in the cabin. 

He went, and from their midst there arose a white- 
haired man, who with tear-drops starting in his eyes, told 
that rough, sun-embrowned man that he had taught them 
a lesson, that they felt humbled before him, and the) 
asked his forgiveness. It was a touching scene. The 
fountain of true sympathy was broken up in the heart of 
nature, and its waters welled up choking the utterance of 
all present. 

On the instant a purse was made up for the sick man, 
with a "God speed" on his way home, to die in the arms 
of his mother. 

QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. If you never do any body any harm, do you think 
you will ever deserve any blame? 

2. But is it not as much our duty to do some real good 
to others as it is to refrain from doing them evil ? 

o. If you should see a little child fall into deep water, 
and be in danger of being drowned, would you be deserv- 
ing of blame if you did not try to save it? 

4. If you were to see a man's house taking tire, would 



1:2 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

you be excusable if you did not try to put it out yourself* 

or notify others of the danger? 

5 Then when we see any class of unfortunate persons 
around us, are we free from all blame if we do not care 
tor them or try to aid them .' 

(>. But instead of caring lor such, what would you think 
of the practice of making sport of the ignorant, or of the 
lame or the blind '. 

7. In the case of any ch • of unfortunate persons, with 
how much less tenderness and attention may you treat a 
stranger or an enemy, than you might treat a brother or a 
sister in the same circumstances. 

8. In the foregoing narrative, do you think the captain 
acted wisely in deciding that the sick man should go. "if 
lie lost every passenger by the trip?" 

0. But possibly the captain himself was a poor man, in 
need of all the money he could make by the trip to pay 
his necessary expenses, and possibly, too. in debt for the 
boat he was then running. Under such circumstances, 
what would you advise a captain to do, if passengers re- 
fused to ride with him if he carried a sick man ? 

1 0. Suppose the captain, instead of taking the sick man 
in his arms and placing him in the best part of his own 
boat, had gone to the cars and given him ten dollars to pay 
his passage in the next boat, and then taken the passengers 
and made two hundred and fifty dollars by the trip; would 
you think as well of such a course as the one the captain 
did pursue'? 

11. If you had been the captain of the boat, and the 



DUTY TO OTHERS. 13 

sick mail in the cars had been your own brother, would 
you have felt that you had dope your duty if you had 
handed him twenty dollars to pay his expenses home on 
the next boat, while you were making two hundred dollars 
in carrying a boat load of passengers who refused to ride 
in the same boat with him I 

12. Perhaps there were some among the passengers 
who did not have much to say for the sick man or against 
him, being ready simply to agree with the majority. — 
Would such, if there were any. deserve much blame? 

13. If fifty persons, some rich and some poor, some old 
and some young, were standing near, where a person was 
suffering from cold, or sickness, or hunger or accident, 
whose duty would it be to help such a sufferer'? 

L3. What "golden rule" of conduct should persons 
observe, in order to determine how much atttention and 
kindness should be shown to a suffering stranger? 

15. May any class of persons, either on account of 
their superior advantages, or on account of their poverty 
or misfortune, be excused from the practice of the rule — 
■ ; do unto others as you would have others do to you? : " 
Are children under obligation to practice this rule? 

16. Children sometimes meet with those who have had 
less advantages for instruction, for a pleasant home and 
kind friends than they themselves have had; what sort of 
treatment would you think due from such children to 
those less fortunate? 

NARRATIVE. 

Poor Boy! — We said this on Sunday evening as we 
came down Broadway. We have said it twenty times 



J 4 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

since that, aloud, and live times twenty mentally, we have 
repeated those two words, "Poor Boy!" They are little 
words, common words, only seven letters, easily spoken, 
often spoken, yet they have a great deal of meaning — 
painful meaning sometimes. They had on Sunday night. 
They often tell a whole story. They did in the present 
case. This is it. 

Our ear was first attracted by a little hum of voices, 
voices of boys, singing a march : it was the Rogue's March. 
What could it be for'? We looked and listened. Half a 
dozen boys with sticks, imitating those children who carry 
guns — one had tied his handkerchief to imitate a flag — 
were singing and marching behind another boy. He was 
about twelve years old and carried a bundle in his hand, 
tied in a common cotton handkerchief, such as we carried 
when about the same age. His dress said, just as plain as 
his language, "I am just from the country. " His tormen- 
tors, for such they were, were in high glee. Their glee 
made us sad, and we said, "Poor Boy! " and walked away. 
We could not go on, and so we went back. The poor 
boy had stopped to remonstrate with his persecutors. 

"What do you want to follow me singing that ar for ? 
I wish you would let me alone. I hain't done nothing to 
you. " 

"Ain't that rich, boys? Hurrah for greeny ! " 

We cried "poor boy ! " again, and then we told the boys 
they should not torment the poor boy, and asked "what 
they did it for 1 ?" "'Cause he has no spunk. Why don't 
he show fight. He's a greeny." Yes, he was green. 
That was enough for the city boys, well-dressed boys of 
parents whom no one would dare to say were not "respect- 
able." Could they say themselves, that it was respect- 
able to let their boys run in the streets on the Sabbath, 
singing and marching like wild young savages, after a poor- 



DUTY TO OTHERS. 15 

boy from the country, whose only fault was that he had 
not yet learned to be as wicked as themselves — he was 
green — he would not fight. He did not look like a fight- 
ing boy ; his face was a mild pleasant one ; rather pensive, 
and he had a soft blue eye. But he was green. He had 
been green enough to sit down upon a door step to rest 
his tired limbs, and that was enough to draw a crowd of 
idle boys around him with their jibes and jeers, and insult- 
ing and provoking remarks upon his appearance, his 
homespun coat, and unfashionably cut garments, and when 
he replied and told them to go away and let him alone, 
they set up a shout of derision at his countryfied lan- 
guage. Then he got up and thought he would walk away, 
and so get clear of them, but he could not shake them off. 
Poor boy ! he had left his country home among the moun- 
tains of Northern New York, to seek his fortune in the 
city, and this was the first fortune he had met with, it 
was an unkindly welcome. We drew him aside and 
questioned him why he had come to the city. "I came 
because I had read so much in the newspapers about the 
prosperity of the city, and how every body gets great 
wages and money right down every week ; and I thought 
that was a good place for me, as I was poor, and my moth- 
er was poor, and I wanted to try and do something to get 
a home for her and me too. Now I have got here, I don't 
know what to do, or where to stay all night, I have been 
walking all through town till I am dreadful tired, and I 
have not seen a single tavern sign. Can you tell me 
where to find one?" We told him where to go to find a 
plain lodging place, and advised him to turn his face north- 
ward in the morning. Go back to the country ; poor boy. 
he is green in the city, and not disposed to fight his way 
through life, so he must go back to the country. He al- 
ways will be a poor boy here . Sew York Paper . 



16 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

17. If the city boys, spoken of in the preceeding nar- 
rative, had tried anxiously to observe the golden rule with 
the boy who came from the country, what would they 
have said and done instead of singing the " Rogue's March " 
around him? 

18. If they had all united in speaking kindly to this 
country boy, and assisted him in finding a comfortable 
home for the night, and had further assisted him in look- 
ing for employment on the following day; do you think 
the pleasure would have been "as rich''' as that of shout- 
ing '■''hurrah for greeny?'' 

19. Which of the two courses of conduct do you think 
could be longer remembered with the highest satisfaction ? 

20. Whose conduct do you think deserving the severer 
censure, that of the men who neglected and insulted the 
sick man in the cars, or the boys who insulted and tor- 
mented the poor boy from the country ? 

21. Whose conduct do you think deserving the greater 
credit, that of the captain of the boat, or that of the man 
who befriended the poor boy in the city. 



VARIED APPLICATION OF RIGHT PRINCIPLES. 



QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. Suppose that, in passing through your neighbor's 
gate, you should accidentally break the latch, or the hing- 
es, and no one should see you. what ought you to do in 
such a case? 

*2. If you had borrowed your neighbor's wheelbarrow. 



DUTY TO OTHERS. 17 

and, ill using it, should break it hi a place which would 
not be easily seen, what should you think right to be done? 

3. If, in passing through your neighbor's field or garden 
alone, you should carelessly leave his gate open, and cat- 
tle or hogs should come in and destroy his corn, or his 
garden, what would you think it your duty to do, suppo- 
sing that no one but yourself knew how the gate happened 
to lie left open \ 

4. If you should tell your companions that you were 
very sure a certain boy had stolen your silver pencil, and 
afterwards you should find, that it had not been stolen at 
all, what ought you to do? 

5. If you thought: any one of your associates was neg- 
lected or abused, because he or she was not quite so well 
appearing, every way, as others, how ought you to act? 

<j. Our brothers, or sisters, or friends, are sometimes 
helpless and dependent from sickness or accident, and 
sometimes so for life; what rule of conduct should we 
always observe towards such relatives or friends? 

7. If a younger brother was not in good health, and 
you knew that fruit would endanger his health or his life, 
would it be right to give him fruit if he should ask it of 
you ? 

>. Suppose your brother should offer to pay you very 
liberally if you would let him have fruit, would it be right 
to sell it to him. if you felt sure that it would injure his 
health? 

9. Instead of being your brother, suppose that one of 
your associates was in the same circumstances, would 



18 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

it be right to give or sell him fruit if you felt certain that 
it would endanger his health or his life? 

10. Instead of being an associate, suppose a stranger or 
an enemy to be in the same circumstances, what would 
you think it your duty to do? 

11. When you feel at a loss in any maimer to know 
how you ought to treat others, what rule will always aid 
you to determine? 



LESSON II. 



REPAY ALL INJURIES WITH KINDNESS. 
NARRATIVE. 

The Power of Love. — The Colony of Petit .bourg. in 
France, is an establishment for the reformation of juve- 
nile offenders — for instruction of abandoned children (boys) 
who are found without any parental care, wandering about 
the streets of Paris. It is supported by voluntary con- 
tributions. The boys are taught all sorts of out-door and 
in-door work, and have regular seasons of recreation. 
When any one commits a fault requiring grave punish- 
ment, the whole of the boys are assembled, as a sort of 
council to deliberate and decide on the kind of punish- 
ment to be inflicted, which consists usually of imprison- 
ment in a dungeon for a number of days, and of course 
no participation in the recreations of the community. 

There are at present about 1 30 boys in the institution. 
Now, here is the peculiarity of discipline. After sen- 
tence is passed by the boys under the approval of the di- 



HEPAV ALL INJURIES WITH KINDNESS. 19 

rector, the question is then put. " Will any of you consent 
to become the patron of this offender, that is, to take his 
place now and suffer in his room and stead, while he goes 
free?'' And it rarely happens but that some one is found 
ready to step forward to consent to ransom the offender. 
by undergoing his punishment for him — the offender being 
in that case merely obliged to act as porter in carrying 
to his substitute in the dungeon his allowance of bread 
and water, during all the time of his captivity. The effect 
has been the breaking of the most obdurate hearts of the 
boys, by seeing another actually enduring, willingly, what 
they have deserved to suffer. 

A remarkable case occurred lately. A boy whose vi- 
olent temper and bad conduct had procured his expulsion 
from several schools in Paris, and was in a fair way of 
becoming an outlaw and terror to all good people, was 
received into the institution. For a time the novelty of 
the scene, the society, the occupation, &c, seemed to have 
subdued his temper; but at length his evil disposition 
showed itself, through his drawing a knife on a boy with 
whom he had quarrelled, and stabbing him in the breast. 
The wound was severe but not mortal; and while the 
bleeding boy was carried to the hospital, the rest of the 
inmates were summoned to decide on the fate of the crim- 
inal. They agreed at once in a sentence of instant ex- 
pulsion, without hope of re-admission. The director op- 
posed this, and showed them that such a course would 
lead this poor desperate boy to the scaffold and the galleys. 
He bade them think of another punishment. They fixed 
upon imprisonment for an unlimited period. The usual 
question was put, but no patron offered himself, and the 
culprit was marched off to prison. 

After some days, the director reminded the boys of the 



*20 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

case, and on a repetition of the call, " Will no one become 
the patron of this unhappy youth'?" a voice was heard. 
"I will!" The astonished boys looked around and saw 
coming forward the very youth that had been wounded, 
and who had just been discharged from the sick ward. 
Me went to the dungeon and took the place of the would- 
be murderer, (for had this boy's physical strength been 
equal to his passion, the blow must have been fatal, both 
boys being only about nine or ten years old.) and it was 
only after the latter had for some time carried the pittance 
of food to his generous patr« :i. and seen him still pale and 
feeble from the effects of his wound, suffering for him de- 
privation of light, and liberty, and joy, that his stout heart 
gave up, and he cast himself at the feet of the director, con- 
fessing and bewailing, with bitter tears, the wickedness of 
his heart, and expressing the resolution to lead a different 
life for the time to come. Such a fact needs no comment. 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

I- Have you ever heard of persons, or children who 
sought to injure those who had injured them ? 

2. Is there any better course for us to pursue, when oth- 
ers do us an injury, than to do them just as great an injury, 
if we can? What is it? 

3. If others do wrong to us, would it be right for us t«> 
simply let such persons alone? 

4. But, in simply letting them alone, would this show 
that we loved them ? 

">. Which would you think the more certain way to 



REPAY ALL INJURIES WITH KINDNESS. %l 

make your enemy become your friend, to do him an inju- 
ry, or a kindness? 

(>. How many injuries do you think it would be neces- 
sary to do to an enemy, to make him your friend? 

7. How many kindnesses do you think it would re- 
quire to make your enemy respect and love you? 

8. Which do you think would give you the more pleas- 
ure, to conquer yourself, and your enemy too, by doing 
him kindnesses, or, to conquer neither yourself nor your 
enemy, by doing him injuries? 

!>. Is it common for us to do good to those who do evil 
tons? is it easy for us? Is it possible for us.' 

10. In the narrative just given, what particular course 
of conduct conquered the boy who had stabbed his com- 
panion? 

11. If the remaining buys, when they saw that their 
companion had been severely wounded, had all joined and 
chastised this reckless boy severely, is it probable that 
they would have made a kind-hearted, honest boy of him ? 

12. Do you think the boy who was stabbed showed a 
truly courageous spirit in offering to take the place of his 
companion in prison? 

13. Is it probable that the director of the institution 
and the companions of the boy who was stabbed, would 
feel ashamed of him for offering to take the place of tin- 
one who had so deeply injured him ? 

14. If one of your intimate friends should be very much 



22 



ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 



abused, would you feel ashamed of him. if he should try 
to conquer his enemy, by pleasant words and kind ac- 
tions? Would you respect and honor him, if he under- 
took to conquer him by fighting, or by seeking to do hin i 
injuries? 

15. Are there any persons so bad that they cannot be 
conquered by kindness? 

16. It 1 conquering by kindness is the most successful 
method, why do not persons always practice this plan of 
conquering enemies? 

IT. In the narrative given, which boy do you think was 
the happier, the one who conquered by kindness, or the 
one who w^as conquered? 



NARRATIVE. 

A Merchant's Revenge. — Making haste to get rich 
leads the young man to violate the golden rule, and 
wounds his conscience. An illustration of this occurred 
some years since in one of the American cities. A. built 
a very extensive warehouse on his lot. and after it was 
completed, B.. the next neighbor, discovered that it was 
a couple or three inches on his lot. A surveyor was sent 
for, and A. discovered his mistake, and freely offered B. 
a large sum, if he would permit him to remain. B. knew 
that he had his wealthy neighbor in his power, therefore 
he seemed unwilling to sell the narrow gore for twenty 
times the value of the land. He only waited for a lar- 
ger bribe to be offered, believing that before A. would 
j)iill down his warehouse, he would pay half its value. — 
But A. finding that B. was determined to be satisfied with 



REPAY ALL INJURIES WITH KINDNESS. 23 

nothing but extortion, began to pull down his noble build- 
ing. Then he might have settled on his own terms, but 
he had no offer to make. The last foundation stone was 
removed. In order to avenge himself. A. ordered his 
builder to run up the new edifice a couple of inches with- 
in his own line, and it was done ; and the noble building 
again was completed. A short time afterwards, B. com- 
menced the erection of his splendid warehouse, directly 
against his neighbors, and, of course, two inches over on 
the lot of A. The trap laid, succeeded as he expected; 
and after B.'s building was completed, and his friends 
were congratulating him on his noble warehouse, A. steps 
up and informs B. that Ins edifice encroaches on his land. 
B. laughs at the thought, for amid the rubbish and deep 
foundation, a couple of inches cannot be detected by the 
naked eye. 

A surveyor was sent for, and conceive the blank as- 
tonishment that filled the mind of B. when he found him- 
self at the mercy of one he had so deeply wronged. — 
Then would have been the time for A. to have shown the 
sordid B. what a magnanimous heart could do! How 
much better and nobler, and happier to pass by an insult ! 
It is the glory of the Christian to be able, willing, and re- 
joice to forgive an enemy. But A. was actuated by 
simple revenge, and that neighbor could name no sum at 
which he would even look. He offered him half the cost 
of the edifice, if he would suffer him to let it stand. No ; 
he must pull it down, and down it came to the very foun- 
dation. This neighbor, placing the stone within his own 
line, and thus setting a .snare, was as certainly guilty of 
falsehood as Annanias and Sapphira, although he had not 
said a word. For B. to take advantage of the unintention- 
al mistake of his neighbor, and then endeavor to extort 



24 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

some thousands of dollars from him, was nothing but at- 
tempting a wholesale robbery. It is but the same thing 
in retail robbery, which prompts one to take advantage 
of the ignorant neighbor, or that neighbor's servant or 

OniKI . Mercantile Morals. 



18. In the last narrative, what greater victory could 
merchant A. have obtained over merchant B. than he did? 

19. Did merchant A. make merchant B. his warm 
friend by the course he pursued ? 

20. Would merchant B. probably have taken another 
advantage of merchant A. if he had seen a. good oppor- 
tunity 1 

21. Then, did merchant A. really conquer B. ? 

22. Did merchant A. conquer himself' 

23. Whose conduct do you the more admire, that of 
the poor boy who was stabbed, or that of the rich mer- 
chant A. who was first so much wronged by his neighbor, 
but who wronged him as much in return 1 



VARIED APPLICATION OF RIGHT PRINCIPLES. 
QUESTIONS FOR. SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. Suppose some one has wronged you very much, and 
for this you have three times done him a kindness, and he 
remains your enemy still. Ought you to try any more 
to make him your friend ? How many times do you think 
yon ought to try? 



REPAY ALL INJURIES WITH KINDNESS. 25 

'2. How many times do you think you would try with 
a brother or sister, or any one that you loved very much? 

3. Suppose, in going home from school to-night, some 
boy should seize your hat or cap and, intentionally, throw 
it into the muddy water or mud, how do you think you 
would act? 

4. Suppose several boys should unite in calling you re- 
proachful names for the purpose of irritating you? Plow 
do you think you would act .' 

5. Do you think of any kindnesses that could be prac- 
ticed upon such boys, that would make them ashamed and 

sorry for their conduct? 

(k It" you were to assist any, or each of them, the next 
day in their work or their sports, or to give them some 
fruit, or were to invite them to visit you, and should be 
very careful to show them all the little attentions in your 
power, do you think they would long abuse you.' 

7. If you should, by trying every means you could 
think of, at last succeed in conquering such boys by your 
kindnesses, which do you think would be most benefitted. 
yourself or the boys? 

s. Would it be right to do an enemy a kindness, simply 
for the purpose of gaining a triumph, and with no real 
desire of conferring a benefit upon him? 

9. ff those who are unfriendly or unkind to us are un- 
fortunate in any manner, would it be right to rejoice at 
their misfortunes \ 

10. In case those who are unfriendly to us seem to have 

4 



&6 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

no power, whatever, to injure us, may we feel quite indil- 
ferent whether we gain their friendship or not by showing 
them attention and kindness? 



LESSON III. 



A LITTLE WRONG DONE TO ANOTHER IS A GREAT 
WRONG DONE TO OURSELVES. 

NARRATIVE. 

■■ Deep Wounds. 5 '— When I was about twelve years of 
age — 1 remember it as though it were but yesterday — I 
one day got very angry with an older brother. 1 was an- 
gry, too, ''without a cause."' He had been the best of 
brothers to me; but on this occasion he had refused to 
gratify my strong desire to have for my own a little book 
which I had seen him reading. 1 flew into a violent pas- 
sion. I called him very bad names; and, although I can 
scarcely believe it. and only recollect it with grief and 
shame, 1 tore his clothes and tried to bite his arms. 

In a few weeks, and before my proud spirit was hum hie 
enough to ask his forgiveness, that brother left home nev- 
er again to return, lie went tar away among strangers 
to sicken and die. I never saw' him again. Oh! how of- 
ten have I wished that I might have been permitted to 
stand by that brother's death-bed and ask pardon for my 
foolish passion. Useless wish! Unavailing regret! — 
Even now. at this distance of time, whenever 1 recall the 
memory of that brother, and think of his kindness and 
love, the cup of pleasure is embittered by the dregs of 



IN INJURING OTHERS, WE INJURE OURSELVES. 'I i 

remorse which the remembrance of that angry hour 
throws upon it. Alas! the pangs of remorse gnawing 
my own spirit even now are far sharper than the teeth 
with which I would gladly have lacerated my brother's 
flesh. When I see that brother in my dreams, he wears 
that same look of astonishment and rebuke with which 
he then looked upon me. 

"A wounded spirit who can bear 1 ?" (>! if children 
and youth who speak angry words to their parents, and 
call their brothers hard names, only knew what a 1 earful 
burden of '-wounded spirits" they arc storing up, to press 
with mountain weight upon them in riper years, they 
never would suffer an unkind or disrespectful word to 
pass their lips. 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. If a puoi- boy were t<> steal ten cents from a rich 
merchant's drawer, which would be the greater sufferer, 
the boy or the merchant '. 

•2. In what respect would the merchant be the sufferer 1 ? 
In what respect would the boy be the sufferer? Whose 
sufferino- would last the longest ? 

3. if, in anger, you should strike one of your compan- 
ions a blow that should cause pain for two hours, but 
should produce no further inconvenience, which would be 
the greater sufferer, yourself or your companion ? 

4. In what manner would your companion be the suf- 
ferer in such a case I In what manner would you be the 

sufferer? How long would the recollection of the blow 
cause you pain? 



*2< s ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSON*. 

5. In the narrative just given, did the boy who was 
angry, do any severe bodily injury to his brother? 

(>. Why did he feel so badly for so long a time? 

7. If the younger brother had received the ill treatment 
from his elder brother, instead of giving it, before the 
elder brother left home for the last time, do you think he 
would have experienced so much sorrow and anguish du- 
ring the remainder of his life? 

8. Which of the two bro' hers was probably the greater 
sufferer during the remainder of their lives for this one 
wrong act of the younger brother? 

9. But, suppose the younger brother had really been 
penitent and received forgiveness from the elder brother, 
before he finally left home, would he have been able, at 
any time, after, to think of his anger with pleasure? 



ANOTHER EXAMPLE. 

Sir Walter Scott related the following incident of his 
own life to an intimate friend: 

There was a boy in his class at school, who always 
stood at the top, nor could the utmost efforts of young 
Scott displace him. At length he observed, when a 
question was asked this boy, he always fumbled with his 
lingers at a particular button on the lower part of his 
waistcoat; and the removal of this was, therefore, deter- 
mined. The plot was executed, and succeeded too well. 
When the boy was again questioned, his lingers sought 
again for the button, but it could not be found. In his 
distress he looked down for it, but it was not to be seen. 
He stood confounded, and Scott took possession of his 



IN INJURING OTHERS, WE INJURE OURSELVES. 25) 

place, which he never recovered. The wrong thus done, 
was, however, attended, as it always must be, with pain. 
"Often," said Scott, "in after life, the sight of him smote 
me." Heartily did he wish that this unkind act had never 
been done. 

Let it constantly be remembered, that we are not- 
left to act as we please; — the rule is of the highest au- 
thority: "Whatsoever ye would that men should do to 
you, do ye even so to them." 

10. In the case of Sir Walter Scott, just related, which 
probably was the greater sufferer, the boy who lost his 
position at the head of his class, or Sir Walter who 
gained it? 

11. Why did the sight of the boy, ever in after life. 
give Sir Walter Scott so much pain 1 

12. How long will one wrong act cause us pain and 
sorrow? 

13. If we have sought and obtained forgiveness for our 
unkind acts, and also made all the restitution in our pow- 
er to those we have wronged, shall we any longer feel the 
consequences of our wrong deeds? 



NARRATIVE. 

Nails in the Post. — There was once a farmer who 
had a son named John, a boy very apt to be thoughtless, 
and careless as' to doing what he was told to do. 

One day his father said to him, "John you are so care- 
less and forgetful, that every time you do wrong, I shall 
drive a nail into this post, to remind you how often you 



30 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

are naughty; and every time you do right I will draw 
one out." His father did as he said he would, and e\ evy 
day he had one, and sometimes a great many nails to 
drive in, but very seldom one to draw out. 

At last John saAv that the post w r as quite covered with 
nails, and he began to be ashamed of having so many 
faults; so he resolved to be a better boy, and the next 
day he was so good and industrious that several nails 
came out; the day after it w r as the same thing, and so on 
for a long time, till at length it came to the last nail. 
His father then called him and said, "Look, John, here is 
the very last nail, and now Fin going to draw this: arc 
you not glad?" 

John looked at the post, and then, instead of express- 
ing his joy, as his father expected, he burst into tears. 
w 'Why," said the father, "what's the matter? 1 should 
think you would be delighted; the nails are all gone." 
"Yes," sobbed John, "the nails are gone, but the scars 
are there yet." 

So it is, dear children, with your faults and bad hab- 
its; you may overcome them, you may by degrees cure 
them, but the scars remain. Now take my advice, and 
whenever you find yourself doing a wrong thing, or get- 
ting into a bad habit, stop at once; for every time you 
give up to it, you drive another nail, and that will leave 
a scar on your soul, even if the nail should be afterwards 
drawn out. 

15. In the narrative just given, why did the "scars" in 
the post give John so much trouble? 

I<>. If the post had been taken away and burned up, 
would John then have been as happy as though he had 
never done wrong? 



IN INJURING OTHERS, WE INJURE OURSELVES. 31 

VARIED APPLICATION OF EIGHT PRINCIPLES. 
QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

I. If a person should tell falsehoods and. afterwards 
acknowledge them and be forgiven, would his reputation 
stand as well among those who knew him as though lie 
had always told the truth? 

*2. Would a person who has told one falsehood be more 
or less likely to tell another? 

3. When we have done wrong once, is it more, or less 
easy for us to do wrong again? 

4. If we have acted uprightly at any time, will it be 
more, or less easy for us to do right again? 

5. In what manner do persons ever become hardened 

in cruelty and crime? 

6. In what manner do some persons become so bold 
and strong in virtuous deeds I 

7. If doing wrong, little by little, will finally ruin a 
man. is there any danger that by repeated wrong-doing 
we shall almost entirely lose our power to do right? 

S. Can anybody who feels guilty, at the same time feel 
really happy? 

9. What then is the worst calamity that can happen to 
anybody? (To do avrong intentionally.) 

L0. What punishment do you consider harder to bear 
than a guilty conscience? 

II. What pleasure is sweeter than the consciousness of 
doing right? 



LESSON IV. 



THE NOBLEST COURAGE IS THE COURAGE TO DO RIGHT. 
NARRATIVE. 

The Brave Boy. — 1 was sitting by a window in the 
second story of one of the large boarding-houses at Sara- 
toga Springs, thinking of absent friends, when I heard 
shouts of children from the piazza beneath me. 

u O yes, that's capital! so we will! Come on now! 
there's William Hale! Come on, William, we're going 
to have a ride on the Circular Railway. Come with us?" 

"Yes, if my mother is willing. I will run and ask 
her," replied William. 

"0, O! so you must run and ask your ma. Great ba- 
by, run along to your ma! Ain't you ashamed ! I didn't 
ask my mother." — "Nor I," "Nor 1." added half a dozen 
voices. 

"Be a man, William," cried the first voice, "come along 
with us, if you don't want to be called a coward as long 
as you live; — don't you see we're all waiting?" 

I leaned forward to catch a view of the children and 
saw Wiiliam standing with one foot advanced, and his 
hand firmly clenched in the midst of the group. He was 
a line subject for a painter at that moment. His flushed 
brow, flashing eye, compressed lip, and changing cheek. 
all told how the word coward was rankling in his breast. 
-Will he prove himself indeed one by yielding to them?" 
thought I. It was with breathless interest I listened for 



MORAL UOURAGK. 38 

his answer; for I feared that the evil principle in his 
heart would be stronger than the good. But, no. 

" I will not go without I ask my mother," said the no- 
ble boy, his voice trembling with emotion; "I am no cow- 
ard, either. I promised her I would not go from the 
house without permission, and I should be a base coward 
if I were to tell her a wicked lie." 

I saw him in the evening amid the gathering multitude 
in the parlor. He was walking by his mother's side, a 
stately matron, clad in widow's weeds. Her gentle and 
polished manners, and the rich full tones of her sweet 
voice betrayed a Southern birth. It was with evident 
pride she looked on her graceful boy, whose face was one 
of the finest I ever saw, fairly radiant with animation and 
intelligence. Well might she be proud of such a son, 
one who could dare to do right, when all were tempting 
to the wrong. I shall probably never see the brave boy 
again; but my heart breathed a prayer that that spirit, 
now so strong in its integrity, might never be sullied by 
worldliness and sin; neve]* in coming years, be tempted 
by the multitude to evil. Then will he indeed be a joy 
to the widow's heart — a pride and an ornament to his na- 
tive land. Our country needs such stout, brave hearts, 
that can stand fast when the whirlwind of temptation 
gathers thick and strong around them; she needs men, 
who from infancy upward, have scorned to be false and 
recreant to duty. 

Would you, young friend, be a brave man, and a blessing 
to your country, be truthful, never tell a lie, or deceive 
in any manner; and then, if God spares your life, you 
will be a stout-hearted man, a strong and fearless cham- 
pion of the truth. 

1. When a soldier goes boldlv to battle to meet dan- 
5 



34 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

ger and death, what sort of courage does he exhibit 1 ? 
(Bodily, or physical courage.) 

2. When a person dares to do right when others 
threaten, oppose, or ridicule him, what sort of courage 
does he show'? (Moral courage.) 

3. Dogs will sometimes engage in a fight with dogs 
much larger than themselves. What sort of courage do 
such dogs manifest? (Brute courage or physical courage.) 

4. A boy was once called a coward and otherwise 
insulted, because he refused to join his companions in 
stealing plums, for the reason that he thought it ivrong 
to steal. Did he show cowardice, or courage in refusing 
to steal 1 ? If courage, of what kind? 

5. Which do you think the nobler quality, moral or 
physical courage'? 

6. Is there ever any true courage, indeed, in doing 
what we know to be wrong? 

7. But if a person insults or injures you, does it not 
look spirited, courageous and manlike in you to resent the 
insult or injury? 

8. Is it certain that such spirit is the right spirit, and 
such courage true courage? 

0. In the narrative last given, what sort of courage 
does the boy exhibit who refused to break his promise 
and disobey his mother? 

10. Is it probable that the boys who called William 
Hale a coward, would be likely ever to defend the truth, 
or defend innocent persons if it was unpopular to do so? 



MORAL COURAGE. 35 

11. Is it probable that boys who would persuade you to 
do what they well knew to be wrong, would have enough 
of any kind of courage to face any sort of danger to save 
the lives of others? 

12. Suppose, in a company of boys, that one should 
propose to go and steal some fruit to eat, and that another 
of the boys, believing it to be very ivrong to steal, should 
oppose the project because the distance was so great, or 
the night so dark, or the fences so high, would this show 
moral courage? Why not? 

13. Suppose another boy, knowing that it was very 
wrong to steal, should give as a reason for not going, that 
the owner of the fruit was a very kind man, would this 
show moral courage? Why not? 

14. What reason ought this, and every other boy of 
the company to assign, at once, for not going? 



NARRATIVE. 

Taking the Right Ground. — One Saturday noon. 
when school was dismissed, a number of us stopped a 
little while, to devise ways and means of passing the 
afternoon most pleasantly. I was then, I think, about 
nine years of age. We could not fix upon any plan; so 

we separated, . agreeing to meet, after dinner, at E 

H 's, and take up the subject again. 

I received permission to spend the afternoon with 

E , or to go where the boys went, provided they 

"kept out of mischief." I found the boys, some five or 
six in number, assembled there when I arrived. One of 
them was earnestly urging them to go to the I or- 



36 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

chard, for apples. There was a tree, he said, of excellent 
apples, at a great distance from the house, and so near to 
the woods that we could get as many as we wanted, with- 
out being seen. 

I saw at once that I could not be. one of the party, for 
I was not brought up to steal apples or any thing else. 
As I did not wish to be left alone, I was very desirous 
that the plan should not be adopted. I accordingly 
brought forward several, objections — the distance of the 
orchard from us, the probability that we should not suc- 
ceed, the shame that would follow detection in the at- 
tempt, and the fact that none of our parents would be 
willing to have us go upon such an expedition. 

My objections were plausibly answered by the propo- 
ser of the plan, and I began to fear that I should be left 

in a minority, when R A joined us. When he 

had learned the state of the case, he said the expedition 
was not to be thought of, as it was wrong. It would 
displease God. Disguise it as we would, it was stealing, 
and God's law said, "Thou 'shalt not steal." His remark 
settled the question. The plan was given up. We con- 
cluded to go and play in a large, new-mown meadow. 

I have related this incident to show how important it 
is to take the right ground in opposing that which is 
wrong. R took the right ground. He planted him- 
self on the everlasting rule of right. 1 have observed 
that when young persons are asked to do what their 
consciences will not approve, they often assign various 
reasons for declining, instead of boldly stating the true 
and chief reason, namely, that it is -wrong. Never be 
afraid or ashamed to avow your adherance to the rule of 
right. If a thing is not right, say you will not do it, be- 
cause it is not right, and do not think it needful to add 
any other reason. 



MORAL COURAGE. 37 

15. In the last narrative, how many of the boys man- 
ifested true courage respecting the proposition to steal 
apples? 

16. Is it probable that the boys loved and respected 

R A any the less, for telling them all, boldly 

and promptly, and decidedly, that it was wrong to steal 
fruit? 

17. What is the first question to be asked, when we are 
invited to join others in any amusement or undertaking, 
or set about any plans of our own? (is it right .') 

18. But suppose we have decided to do what we 
think right ourselves, would you think it necessary for us, 
at any time, to say to others what we think is right? 

19. Suppose R A in the narrative given, had 

decided in his own mind that it was wrong to steal fruit, 
and then silently walked away without making known his 
convictions to his companions, would that course have 
answered just as well? 

20. Can any one possess true courage, while he is 
ashamed or afraid to speak and act just as he thinks is 
right? 



VARIED APPLICATION OF EIGHT PRINCIPLES. 
questions for special and general review. 

1. Which do you consider the more difficult duty, to 
do right when all of our friends unite in ridiculing us, for 
our opinions, or when they unite in opposition and vio- 
lence on the same account? 



38 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

2. In case one of your neighbors should discover a 
thief taking money or valuable articles from your fath- 
er's house, what would you consider to be the duty of 
that neighbor? 

3. In case you were to see a person set fire to your 
neighbor's dwelling, what would be your duty 1 ? 

4. If you knew that several persons were banded 
together for the purpose of secretly placing obstructions 
upon the rail road track, what would be your duty? 

5. But suppose you were threatened with violence, if 
you revealed these secret purposes of mischief; what 
ought you to do? 

6. Suppose your best friend becomes involved in a 
difficulty at school, in which you know your friend is very 
much to blame; if you are called upon by parents or 
proper persons to state the facts in the case, what must 
you do? 

7. Which would be better in such a case, to lose your 
friend by exposing his faults, or, to conceal them, and 
prevent justice from being done to all the parties? 

8. In case all of your associates threaten you with 
their displeasure, or even with violence, if you reveal 
their secret plans of mischief; what ought you to do? 

9. If you knew that your companions were trying. 
either by ridicule, threatening or violence, to prevent 
one of your associates from exposing their plans of mis- 
chief, would you have any duty to do in the matter? 

10. If at any time, in any manner, you see another 



MAKING PROMISES. 39 

trying to do right while others try, in any manner, to pre- 
vent him from doing so, what will be yonr duty'? 

11. Why should any one ever be ashamed or afraid 
to do what is right? 

12. Why should any one, at any time, be ashamed or 
afraid to do what is wrong? 



LESSON V. 



BE SLOW TO PROMISE, BUT SURE TO PERFORM. 



NARRATIVE. 

Anecdote oe the Hungarian War. — During an en- 
gagement between an Hungarian and an Austrian troop 
of light infantry, a Honved stabbed an Austrian officer 
with a bayonet, and mortally wounded him. Natural 
generosity prompted the Hungarian Honved to extend 
his aid to the dying foe. The officer said to him with 
great exertion: "I see you are a brave and a good-na- 
tured fellow; I will ask a favor of you. In my pocket- 
book you will find a package containing documents, with- 
out w r hich my family will be ruined— reduced to beggary. 
Promise to send this package to my family in Prague, in 
Bohemia." "I will carry it to them myself," answered 
the Honved. "Swear it to me," said the Austrian.-— 
•'Sir, I am a Hungarian; I give you my word," respond- 
ed the Honved. In a few minutes afterwards the wound- 



40 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

ed man died in the arms of his generous foe, who, after 
covering the body with his own mantle, and putting his 
sword in his hands, crossing them, took the papers and 
joined his troop. 

The conflict ended, and the Honved repaired to his 
captain and requested a furlough, which was denied. — 
This did not discourage our hero ; he went to see the col- 
onel of his regiment, but met with the same result. Fi- 
lially he went to the commanding General, Kalapka, but 
even he did not grant his request. In the night following 
he left the camp, and in the course of a few days he trav- 
eled four hundred miles, and delivered the papers safely 
into the hands of the deeply afflicted widow of the deceased 
Austrian, residing at Prague. 

Soon after our hero, the Honved, rejoined his corps, 
and reported himself to his captain, who had him arrest- 
ed as a deserter. A future court martial condemned him 
to be shot. The brave man calmly resigned himself to 
his fate, which came not to him unexpectedly. He pre- 
pared himself for death, and when the fated muskets were 
aimed at his breast, he exclaimed — "I pledged my honor 
and my word, and I was bound to keep them. Elgen a 
hasa!" (Hurrah for my native land) — and sank dead. 
pierced by many musket balls. 

QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. If you had promised to carry some medicine to a 
sick friend at a certain hour, and when the time arrived. 
the weather should be very stormy, what would be your 
duty? 

2. If you had promised a stranger or an enemy thai 
you would deliver a letter at the Post Office at a partic- 



MAKING PROMISES. 41 

ular hour, and should afterwards find that by doing so, 
you would lose the opportunity to go on a delightful 
pleasure excursion; what ought you to do? 

3. If you had promised that you would not engage in 
certain amusements, and you should afterwards learn 
that some of your best friends would be offended if you 
did not, what would be your duty? 

4. If you should promise to call on a friend at nine 
o'clock in the morning, would you fulfill your promise if 
you called at five minutes past nine? 

5. If you had promised to work at hard labor for one 
year for one hundred dollars, and you should afterwards 
learn that you could get one hundred and fifty in an em- 
ployment that suited you much better, what would be 
your duty? 

6. What would you consider a good excuse for break- 
ing a promise, at any time? 

7. Would the Hungarian soldier, spoken of in the last 
narrative, have probably broken his promise on account 
of stormy weather, or for the sake of a pleasure excur- 
sion, or for fear of offending friends, or for the desire of 
making money? 

8. Did the Hungarian soldier value his promise more 
highly than he ought to value it? — More highly than ev- 
ery person should value a promise? 

9. Children sometimes promise to refrain from eating 
fruit at certain times, or to return from a visit at a cer- 
tain hour, and in the midst of their enjoyments forget to 
keep their promises. Do such persons deserve any blame? 

6 



4'2 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

NARRATIVE. 

The Broken Pledge. — A gentleman in Virginia, says 
Mr. Gougli, had a boy six or seven years old, who want- 
ed to sign the pledge of total abstinence from intoxica- 
ting drinks; all in the family had done so, but the father 
thought him too young, and would not let him. After 
much entreaty, permission was given. Soon after, the 
father went on a, journey. At one stopping-place away 
from the town, he called for some water. It did not 
come, so he called again; still he could not get it; but 
cider was brought, and. being very thirsty, he so far for- 
got himself as to drink that. When he got home, he re- 
lated the circumstance. After he had finished, the little 
boy came up to his knee with his eyes full of tears, and 
said, "Father, how far was you from James river when 
you drank the cider?' 7 "Rather more than fifteen miles, 
my boy." ••Well/' said the little fellow, "I'd have 
walked there and back again, rather than have broken my 
pledge/ 1 Oh, God bless the children. We have thou- 
sands such as those — children who understand the princi- 
ple, and keep the practice. I sometimes wish the adults 
kept the pledge as well as the boys do. 

10. Which would you think the more binding, a prom- 
ise made in words, or a promise made in writing? 

1 i. Do you think the boy spoken of in the last narra- 
tive, was too particular about keeping his pledge? 

12. Would the Hungarian soldier have probably for- 
gotten his promise when a little thirsty, as this boy"s fa- 
ther did? 

13. Which would you think the more binding, a prom- 
ise made to young children or to grown persons? 



MAKING PROMISES. 43 



NARRATIVE. 



The Little Stranger. — Though a man of very strict 
principles, no man ever enjoyed a joke more than Dr. 
Byron; he had a vast fund of humor, an every-day wit, 
and with children, particularly, he loved to chat familiar- 
ly, and draw them out. As he was one day passing into 
the house, he was accosted by a very little hoy, who 
asked him if he wanted any sauce, meaning vegetables. 
The doctor inquired if such a tiny thing was a market 
man. "No, sir, my father," was the prompt answer. — 
The doctor said, "bring me in some squashes," and passed 
into the house, sending out the change. In a few minutes 
the child returned, bringing back part of the change ; the 
doctor told him he was welcome to it; but the child would 
not take it back, saying his father would blame him. — 
Such singular maimers in a child attracted his attention, 
and he began to examine the child attentively; h^ was 
evidently poor, his little jacket was pieced and patched 
with almost every kind of cloth, and his trowsers darned 
with so many colors it was difficult to tell the original 
fabric, but scrupulously neat and clean withal. The boy 
very quietly endured the scrutiny of the doctor, while 
holding him at arm's length, and examining his face. — 
At length he said, 

"You seem a nice little boy ; won't you come and live 
with me and be a doctor'?" 

"Yes, sir," said the child. 

"Spoken like a man," said the doctor, patting his head 
as he dismissed him. 

A few weeks passed on, when one day Jim came to 
say there was a little boy with a bundle down stairs want- 
ing to see the doctor, and would not tell his business to 



44 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

ai y one else. — "Send him up," was the answer; and in a 
few moments he recognized the boy of the squashes, (but 
no squash himself, as we shall see; ) he was dressed in a 
new, though coarse suit of clothes, his hair very nicely 
combed, his shoes brushed up, and a little bundle tied in 
a home-spun checked handkerchief, on his arm. Delib- 
erately taking off his hat, and laying it down with his 
bundle, he walked up to the doctor, saying, 

"I have come, sir." 

"Come for what, my child?" 

"To live with you and be a doctor," said the child with 
the utmost naivette. 

The first impulse of the doctor was to laugh immod- 
erately ; but the imperturbable gravity of the little thing 
rather sobered him, as he recalled, too, his former con- 
versation, and he avowed he felt he needed no addition to 
his family. 

" Did your father consent to your coming'?" he asked. 

"Yes, sir." 

"What did he say?" 

■'•I told him you wanted me to come and live with you 
and be a doctor; and he said you was a very good man, 
and I might come as soon as my clothes were ready." 

"And your mother, what did she say" 

"She said Dr. Byron would do just what he said he 
would, and God had provided for me." "And," said he, 
"I have a new suit of clothes," surveying himself, "and 
here is another in the bundle," undoing the kerchief, and 
displaying them, with two little shirts as white as snow, 
and a couple of neat checked aprons, so carefully folded, 
it was plain none but a mother would have done it. The 
sensibilities of the doctor were awakened, to see the fear- 
less, the undoubting trust with which that poor couple had 



MAKING PROMISES. 45 

bestowed their child upon him, and such a child. His 
cogitations were not long; he thought of Moses in the 
bulrushes, abandoned to Providence; and above all, he 
thought of the child that was carried into Egypt, and that 
the Divine Savior had said, "Blessed be little children:" 
and he called for the wife of his bosom, saying, "Susan, 
dear, I think we pray in church that God will have mercy 

UPON ALL YOUNG CHILDREN." 

"To be sure Ave do." said the wondering wife, "and 
what then?" 

"And the Savior said 'Whosoever receiveth one such 
little child in his name, receiveth me ; ' take this child in 
his name, and take care of him; " and from this hour this 
good couple received him to their hearts and homes. It 
did not then occur to them that one of the most eminent 
physicians and best men of the age stood before them in 
the person of that child; it did not occur to them that 
this little creature, thus thrown upon their charity, was 
destined to be their staff and stay in declining age — a pro- 
tector to their daughters, a more than son to themselves ; 
all this was then unrevealed; but they cheerfully received 
the child they believed Providence had committed to 
their care; and if ever beneficence was rewarded, it was 
in this instance. 



14. If Dr. Byron had invited a young man twenty 
years of age, to come and live with him and study med- 
icine, what would have been the doctor's duty in case the 
young man had come to his house with his trunks and 
books, in accordance with the invitation? 

15. But suppose the doctor should have no expectation 
whatever that the young man would ever come, though 



46 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

he had given him a fair invitation to do so; if he should 
really come, what would be the doctor's duty? 

16. When Dr. Byron invited the little boy to come 
and live with him, did he really expect he would ever 
come'? Did the boy suppose he was in earnest? 

17. When the boy came with his little bundle, what 
do you think was the doctor's duty? 



VARIED APPLICATION OF EIGHT PRINCIPLES. 
QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. If we are thoroughly resolved to keep sacredly ev- 
ery promise we make, shall we be likely to make many, 
or few promises? 

2. If we succeed in keeping, strictly, every promise we 
make, who thereby receives the greater benefit, ourselves, 
or those to whom the promises are made? 

3. What advantage is it to us to keep all the promises 
we make? 

4. If we scrupulously keep all of our promises, what 
advantages will there be to others? 

5. When we have made promises and find that we can- 
not fulfil them exactly as we expected, what ought we 
to do? 

6. If, on account of your negligence in keeping your 
promise, your friend shoulddose five dollars, what would 
be your duty? 



HONOR THY FATHER AND THY MOTHER. 47 

7. Can all of the losses, occasioned by the failure of 
persons to keep their promises, be made good with 
money ? 

8. Which is better for us always to do, to disappoint 
our friends by refusing to promise, or disappoint them by 
failing to fulfil our promise 1 ? 



LESSON VI. 



HONOR THY FATHER AND THY MOTHER. 



NARRATIVE. 

Honoring Parents. — As a stranger went into the 
churchyard of a pretty village he beheld three children 
at a newly made grave. A boy about ten years of age 
was busily engaged in placing plants of turf about it, 
while a little girl, who appeared a year or two younger, 
held in her apron a few roots of wild flowers. The third 
child, still younger, was sitting on the grass watching with 
thoughtful looks the movements of the other two. They 
wore pieces of crape on their hats, and a few other signs 
of mourning, such as are sometimes worn by the poor 
who struggle between their poverty and their afflictions. 

The girl soon began planting some of her wild flowers 
around the head of the grave, when the stranger addressed 
them: 

"Whose grave is this, children, about which you are 
so busily engaged ?" 



48 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

" Mother's grave, sir," said the boy. 

"And did your father send you to place these flowers 
around your mother's grave?" 

"No, sir, father lies here too, and little William and 
sister Jane." 

"When did they die?" 

"Mother was buried a fortnight yesterday, sir; but fa- 
ther died last winter; they all lie here." 

"Then who told you to do this?" 

"Nobody, sir," replied the girl. 

"Then why do you do it?" 

They appeared at a loss for an answer, but the stran- 
ger looked so kindly at them, at length the eldest replied 
as the tears started to his eyes : 

"Oh, we love them, sir." 

"Then you put these grass turfs and wild flowers where 
your parents are laid, because you love them?" 

"Yes, sir," they all eagerly replied. 

What can be more beautiful than such an exhibition of 
children honoring deceased parents? Never forget the 
dear parents who loved and cherished you in your infant 
days ! Ever remember their parental kindness ! Honor 
their memory by doing those things which you know 
would please them were they now alive, by a particular 
regard to their dying commands, and carry on their plans 
of usefulness! Are your parents spared to you? Ever 
treat them as you will wish you had done, when you 
stand a lonely orphan at their graves ! How will a re- 
membrance of kind, affectionate conduct towards those 
departed friends then help to sooth your grief and heal 
your wounded heart. 



HONOR THY FATHER AND THY MOTHER. 49 

QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. Which would you think the more certain way of 
honoring parents, to obey all their commands and always 
respect their wishes while they are living, or. to plant 
flowers upon their graves when they are dead? 

2. Our parents sometimes think it is their duty to de- 
ny us favors, when we cannot see any reason why they 
do so. "What is the duty of children under such circum- 
stances? 

3. Winch would you think afforded the stronger evi- 
dence of affection for parents, to be very generous in ma- 
king them little presents, or, to be very cheerful and af- 
fectionate when denied any favor I 

4. If you were to ask your parents for permission to 
go on a pleasure excursion, and they should reply, "that 
you might go if you felt very anxious to do so, but they 
would prefer that you would not go;" what should you 
do? 

5. Children art: sometimes ashamed of their parents 
because their dress is not fashionable, or their manners 
not as refined as they would like. Which have the great- 
er reason to be ashamed, the children of such parents, or, 
the parents of such children I 

6. Children who have been successful in life, are some- 
times very much ashamed to have their poor, aged pa- 
rents visit them. Whv is this so? 



NARRATIVE. 



Archbishop Tillotson. — There are some children who 
are almost ashamed to own their parents, because they 



50 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

are poor, or in a low situation of life. We will, there- 
fore, give an example of the contrary, as displayed by 
the Dean of Canterbury, after Avar ds Archbishop Tillotson. 
His father, who was a plain Yorkshireman, perhaps some- 
thing like those we now call "Friends," approached the 
house where his son resided, and inquired whether "John 
Tillotson was at home." The servant, indignant at what 
he thought his insolence, drove him from the door ; but 
the dean, who was within, hearing the voice of his father, 
instead of embracing the opportunity afforded him, of 
going out and bringing in his father in a more private 
manner, came running out, exclaiming in the presence of 
his astonished servants, "It is my beloved father;" and. 
falling down on his knees, asked for his blessing. Obe- 
dience and love to our parents is a very distinct and im- 
portant command of God, upon which he has promised 
his blessing, and his promises never fail. 

7. Did the servants probably respect Archbishop Til- 
lotson ?nore, or less highly for the respect and honor he 
manifested to his aged father? 

8. Children sometimes deny themselves enjoyments 
that they may be better able to promote the happiness 
of their parents, and sometimes parents do the same to 
promote the happiness of their children. Which do you 
think is the more common? 

9. Children sometimes feel willing to sacrifice their 
lives for their parents, and sometimes parents do the same 
for their children. Which do you think is the more com- 
mon? 



NARRATIVE. 

A Daughter's Love. — During the sanguinary period 



HONOR THY FATHER AND THY MOTHER. 51 

of the French revolution, when crimes and horrors were 
continually perpetrated, the sacred affections of kindred 
and of friendship -were often powerfully excited. 

One such instance occurred amid the terrific massacres 
of an age unparalleled in atrocity; when crowds of un- 
fortunate persons were condemned unheard, and loaded 
cannon were ordered to play upon them. Yet not only 
in France and its dependencies — among the incidents of 
unflinching heroism and filial love, which La Vendee con- 
tinually exhibited — but in the far-off West, in one of 
those unfortunate islands where the massacres of the Reign 
of Terror were enacted on a less extended theatre. 

An honest Creole, whose only crime consisted in pos- 
sessing the inheritance of his ancestors, was denounced as 
inimical to the Republic, and sentenced to die with a crowd 
of his fellow-countrymen. But, happily for this virtuous 
colonist, he was the father of a little girl, eminently en- 
dowed with courage, energy, and affection; and, when 
the moment of separation from his family arrived, this 
courageous child resolved to follow and share his suffer- 
ings, however terrible to her tender age, In vain did the 
father entreat his little Annette to remain at home, and 
the mother, with streaming eyes, seek to retain her child 
by force. Entreaties and commands were equally una- 
vailing, and, rushing from the door, she continued to fol- 
low at a little distance, the rough men who urged her 
unhappy father to the place of execution. Small time 
sufficed to place him in the foremost rank of the con- 
demned; his eyes were blinded, and his hands tied to- 
gether, while the executioners made ready those murder- 
ous engines, which were soon to open a heavy fire of grape 
shot upon the crowds who awaited their death in silence. 

But suddenly a little girl sprang forward, and her voice, 



■rZ ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

tremulous with emotion, uttered the piercing cry of — 
"Oh, my father! my father!" The lookers on endeav- 
ored to snatch her from destruction, and those who were 
alike condemned to death, menaced the poor child, in 
order to drive her from among them. Annette bounded 
with light step toward her father, as she had been wont 
to do in happier days, when awaiting his welcome voice, 
and throwing her little arms round his neck, she waited 
to perish with the author of her days. 

"Oh, my child, my dearest child, the cherished and 
only hope of thy wretched mother, now on the eve of 
widowhood! " exclaimed her trembling and weeping father, 
"I command, I conjure thee to go away." 

"No, papa, we will die together." 

This unexpected incident disconcerted the director of 
the massacre. Perhaps he was himself a father, and the 
thought of his own children might arise within him. — 
Certain it is, that his ferocious heart was softened ; he or- 
dered the Creole away, and demanded that he should be 
taken to prison, with his child. Amid the rage of civil 
discord, and the alternate ascendancy of contending fac- 
tions, a brief respite was not unfrequently productive of 
the happiest consequences. Such was the case in the 
present instance. The face of affairs became changed ; 
the father was restored to his family, and ceased not to 
speak with the tenderest emotion of his little daughter, 
then only ten years of age. 



VARIED APPLICATION OF EIGHT PRINCIPLES. 

UUESTIOjSS for special and general review. 

1. If you were directed by your parents to perform a 
certain piece of work, and you should do the work as di- 



HONOR THY FATHER AND THY MOTHER. Do 

rected, but very sullenly, instead of cheerfully, would this 
be obedience? 

2. If you were intentionally twice as long as necessary 
in doing any service that your parents had asked of you, 
because you did not wish to do the service, would that 
be obedience? 

3. Suppose you know it i*< contrary to the wishes of 
your parents to have you engage in certain sports or 
amusements, and that, if you were to ask them, they 
would refuse you; but you have never asked them. — 
Would it be disobedience to engage in them'? 

4. If you know that any favor you desire is contrary 
to the wishes of your parents, do you do right to ask it? 

5. After you have once been denied a favor, do you 
think it right to ask a second time? 

(3. Suppose you have permission to visit two hours with 
some of your playmates, would it be disobedience to stay 
two hours and a half? — two and a quarter? 

7. Children sometimes urge their companions to stay 
longer to visit with them, than their parents have given 
them permission to stay. Is it right to do this? 

8. Is it right for us ever to ask others to do, what we 
know is not right, either for them or for us to do? 



LESSON VII 



THINK THE TRUTH— SPEAK THE TEUTH— ACT THE TRUTH. 



NARRATIVE. 

The Dishonest Newsboy.— As 1 was walking near 
the "Battery," in New York, a few days ago, on my 
way to the steamboat Metropolis, a lusty, ragged, and 
dirty newsboy came down Broadway with a. bundle of 
newspapers under his arms, loudly shouting, 



New York Evening 'Erald! arrival of the Pacii 



all about the war! New York 'Erald, last edition!" 

"Here my lad," said I, as he approached me, "let 
me have a copy of your paper, I want to see the steam- 
er's news. " 

The boy thrust a copy of the paper into my hand, and 
seemed so excited with desire to continue his walk and 
his cry, he could scarcely w r ait to take his money. As 1 
had no pennies about me, and as I saw not a little of the 
rogue in his wicked looking eyes, I held a five cent piece 
between my fingers and asked, 

"How much do you want for your paper, my lad?" 
"Sixpence!" said he with an impudent look. 
"Sixpence!" I replied, "why, boy, I fear you are ro- 
guish. The price of your paper is only two cents; why 
do you ask six?" 

"Well, I'll take three cents," he replied, without paus- 
ing to explain the reason why his first demand was so 
high. 



TRUTHFULNESS. 55 

"Give me two cents, then," said I, "but I fear you are 
a bad lad." 

"No, give me your money first," he answered. 

Upon this, I offered him his paper, and was about to 
pass on. This brought him to his senses, and he took 
out his pennies, gave me the change, turned upon his 
heel, and ran off shouting. 

"New York 'Erald! last edition! all about the war! 
Evening edition." 

I now opened my paper, for I felt very desirous to 
glance at the news from Europe. I looked first at one 
column and then at another. But I searched in vain. 1 
could not find one word about the steamer or her news. 
What could it mean'? Aha! the boy had cheated me. — 
He had sold me the morning edition of the paper, which 
I had read nine hours before, and which had been printed 
before the Pacific had been telegraphed. 

"Well," said I to myself, "that boy has cheated me 
for the sake of three cents. He had those morning pa- 
pers left, and came running down this street with a lie in 
his mouth, that he might push them off among the pas- 
sengers by the evening steamers, Avho, being in haste to 
get on board, would purchase papers without pausing to 
look at them until they got out into the river. " 

I have no doubt the young rogue thought this a very 
clever trick. He looked as if he had already sinned 
away his conscience, and I dare say he felt but very little 
of that pain which follows a wrong act in a healthy mind. 
Poor, miserable boy ! I pity him and can but indulge 
the fear that in a few years he will be the inmate of a 
State prison. That successful lie will lead him to bolder 
sins, and finally to ruin: 

T hope my youiig readers ieoi as I do towards him. If 



56 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

that keen eyed boy, now reading these lines, is more pleas- 
ed at the newsboy's trick than he is pained at his deceit. 
it is a sign that his mind is more inclined to evil than to 
good. A right minded youth shrinks with disgust from 
a dishonorable act, however smartly it may be done; 
while the wicked can find fun in the skill of wickedness. 

That poor newsboy not only sinned against God and 
himself in telling me that lie, but he also injured the 
honest newsboys of New York. His act made me sus- 
pect that New York newsboys are bad as a class. It 
makes you think so. I shall be on my guard against ev- 
ery newsboy I meet, when I go to New York again, and 
so will you after reading this story. 

Now this suspicion may be unjust toward some of those 
boys. There may be some choice boys in the class he 
represented, and my suspicion of them may be unjust. — 
Yet I can't help feeling it. My duty to avoid being im- 
posed on, even in a trifle, will cause me to deal with 
them as with boys who will cheat me if they can. The 
boy who cheated me has thus done all his fellow news- 
boys a great wrong. He has exposed them all to be re- 
garded with suspicion. 

QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. Is it right to tell what we know is not true? 

2. Are there any other ways of telling a falsehood, ex- 
cept by words? 

3. Could deaf and dumb persons who talk with their 
fingers, tell a lie with their fingers? 

4. If I had lost my pencil and you had found it, and I 
should inquire if you had seen it, and you should shake 
your head, would that be telling a lie? 



TRUTHFULNESS. 57 

5. Suppose I had lost my knife and pencil, and you 
should find them both, and I should inquire for them, and 
you should say that you had found my knife, but should 
say nothing about the pencil, would this be right? — 
Would it be as bad as telling a lie? 

6. Suppose you had whispered or played in school, 
and I should ask all to arise, who had whispered or played, 
and you should remain in your seat, would that be equal 
to telling a falsehood 1 

7. Suppose you were playing, and the teacher should 
turn to look at you, and you should suddenly stop, and 
pretend you had all the time been still, would this be the 
same as telling your teacher a falsehood 1 ? 

8. Would it be right to tell a falsehood to save yourself 
or another from being punished \ 

9. Jf you were very hungry, or thirsty, would it be 
right to tell a lie to get food or drink? 

10. Would it be right to tell a falsehood to gain a thou- 
sand dollars? 

11. How much did the boy make by telling a lie to 
sell his newspaper ? 

12. Which do you think would be the greater crimi- 
nal, the dishonest boy who would tell a lie to save three 
cents, or the dishonest mail who would tell a lie to save 
a thousand dollars? 

13. But perhaps this poor newsboy had paid for a large 
number of the morning edition of his paper, which he 
would have to lose if he did not sell immediately. If he 

8 



58 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

was very poor, and perhaps hungry and cold, would it be 
right to sell his old papers to save himself from loss'? 

14. But if he had offered his papers for sale in the 
evening, without saying whether it was the morning, or 
evening edition, while all who would purchase would sup- 
pose it was the evening paper, would that have been right? 

15. If this hoy had been very poor, and very ragged, 
and very cold, and very hungry, what would you have 
advised him to do with his old papers'? 

16. Under what circumstances are children and others 
most likely to tell what is not true? 



NARRATIVE. 

Acting Lies. — "Jane, go into the store-room closet, 
and fetch me the large blue jar," said a mother to her lit- 
tle girl. Jane put down her books, for she was going to 
school, and ran to the closet, where the first thing she saw 
was a basket of large red apples. "I should like one of 
these to carry to school," she thought, but she did not 
know whether her mother would think it best for her to 
have one; so instead of asking, she slipped the biggest 
she saw into her pocket, and covered her pocket over 
with her shawl, lest her mother should see it. Jane then 
took the jar to her mother, and went to school with the 
apple, which proved to be a hard winter apple, unfit to 
be eaten. 

By and by J ane's class in History was called up to re- 
cite, and Jane was quite particular about getting her seat 
behind the stove, rather out of the way of the teacher's 
eye. .lane had her History in her hand, with her pencil 



TRUTHFULNESS. 59 

between the pages of the lesson, and every now and then, 
watching her chance, she peeped into the book, but when 
the teacher glanced that way. she looked up as innocently 
as could be. 

School was dismissed a little earlier than usual, and 
Helen Brewster went home with her to get a book which 
Jane promised to lend her; but she did not want to let 
her mother know that school was done, lest her mother 
might want her to play with baby, or to help her in some 
way. So she opened the door very softly, and crept up 
stairs on tiptoe. A call from the sitting-room, "Jane, is 
that you?'' It was her mothers voice, but Jane made 
believe she did not hear. She crept down, and out again, 
and did not get back for some time. "I thought I heard 
you come in some time ago." said her mother; "I wish 
it had been you, for I have needed you very much. Wil- 
lie has been very sick."" Jane said nothing, and how she 
felt you can perhaps imagine. 

We have followed Jane through a part of the day, and 
seen her just as she w r as, not as she seemed to be to her 
mother and teacher; and what do you think of her? — 
There are many children like J ane, and perhaps they will 
see themselves in her. Jane, you see, w r as not a truthful 
child. "But she did not tell any lie." some one will say. 
No, but she acted lies, and you see in how many things 
she deceived in half a day's time. "Little things." per- 
haps you will say. But it is little things which show what 
we really are. and which make up the character. Then- 
is no habit more dangerous than the habit of deceiving 
in little things, because so easily fallen into. Let every 
child who reads this examine her conduct, and see if she 
is in danger of sliding into it. All deceit is displeasing 
to God. 



60 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

17. In the preceding narrative, how many times was 
Jane really guilty of falsehood? 

18. When she heard her mother call her, and yet re- 
mained silent, did she intend her mother should under- 
stand that she was not in the room? 

19. Which is the more criminal, to tell a lie in words, 
or, to tell a lie by keeping silent? 

20. May persons tell what is strictly true, and yet not 
tell the truth? 



NARRATIVE. 

Getting over it Finely. — "Why, Alfred, how could 
you tell mother that wrong story?" said Lucy Somersto 
her brother. "You know you did eat one of the apples 
that was in the fruit dish, yet you told mother you did 
not." 

" Now, Lucy, I did'nt tell any lie about it at all. You 
know mother asked me if I took one of the apples from 
the dish, and I said No. And that was true; for the ap- 
ple rolled off from the top of the dish, when I hit the ta- 
ble, and I picked it up from the floor. Mother didn't ask 
me if I ate one, but if I took one from the dish. So you 
see I got along finely ivith it, and told nothing but the 
truth." 

Yes, but the boy knew that he meant to deceive his 
mother, and that made it a. falsehood. I don't think he 
will get along so finely with his own conscience, or with 
Him who searches and tries the heart. God knows what 
we mean, as well as what ive say. 

21. The boy, in the last narrative, was quite confident 



TRUTHFULNESS. 61 

he had told nothing but the truth. What do you per- 
ceive in his conduct that was wrong? 



VARIED APPLICATION OF EIGHT PRINCIPLES. 
QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. For what purpose does any one ever tell a falsehood? 

2. Can you think of any cases where falsehoods have 
been told where there was not some guilt to be concealed? 

3. When we have neglected some duty, or have been 
involved in some difficulty, shall we be likely to blame 
ourselves? 

4. In giving an account of our neglect of duty, or of 
our difficulties with others, if we mention all the faults 
of others, and omit to mention all of our own, of what 
wrong would we be guilty? 

5. Will telling a lie be the only wrong of which we 
should be guilty in such a case? 

6. Which do you think the greater -wrong, to do in- 
justice, intentionally, to others, or to tell what you know 
is not true? 

7. Have you ever heard or read of persons who would 
sooner suffer death than tell a lie? 



LESSON VIII 



DO GOOD TO ALL, AS YOU HAVE OPPORTUNITY. 



NARRATIVE. 

Money well Expended. — Capt. S. C. 8., of Portland, 
was one clay passing through one of the streets in Boston, 
when he saw a poor sailor lying on the side- walk, with 
his feet in the gutter, in such a position as to endanger 
his limbs, if not his life. Capt. S. pulled him out of the 
gutter, aroused him, and by degrees got his history. He 
was from a good family who resided in the eastern part 
of Maine, had been well educated, and exhibited now the 
wreck of a brilliant intellect and amiable, disposition. — 
He had been sick, he said, had staid his time out in the 
Charlestown Hospital, and had that morning been dis- 
charged without a cent, and in so feeble a state as to dis- 
qualify him to go to sea again at present. "Then why 
don't you go home?" said Capt. S. "I cannot pay my 
passage; I have no money," answered the desponding 
sailor. "Have you found anybody that would give 
you any breakfast?" said the Captain. "No," was the 
reply, "but I found a man who gave me something to 
drink, and, as I was very weak and very hungry, the liq- 
uor overcame me; but I am not very much intoxicated. 
as I seem to be; I have my senses perfectly well." — 
"How much will take you home," inquired the Captain. 
"There is," said the tar, "a vessel lying at the wharf, 
which will take me within two miles of my home for one 



DOING GOOD. t>3 

dollar, and 1 would go if I only had the money. : " "Now. 
shipmate," continued Capt. S., "give us your hand. — 
Look me straight in the eye. Now promise me, upon 
the honor of a sailor, that you will never drink any more 
of the poison stuff, and I'll give you some breakfast and 
pay your passage home. " The sailor clasped his emaci- 
ated fingers around the rough hand of the Captain, and 
pronounced the pledge. Captain S. handed him a bill, 
and saw him safe in the nearest public house, and went 
his way. 

Some three years after, as Capt. S. was passing along 
Exchange street, in Portland, some one behind him called 
out — "Cap'n; I say Cap'n: Hallo, Cap'n. " Captain S. 
turned round, and a well dressed stranger grasped him by 
the hand, and inquired if he knew him. He confessed he 
did not recollect ever to have seen him before. The 
stranger, after several ineffectual attempts to refresh his 
memory, finally brought to his recollection the scene 
narrated above, and confessed that he was the sailor to 
whom he had thus acted the part of the Samaritan, and 
insisted on restoring four-fold for the money which had 
been bestowed on that occasion. All remuneration was 
refused, and the young man was exhorted to go and do 
likewise. "I will with all my heart," said he, as the 
tears gathered to his eyes, "but I owe fou a debt that I 
can never discharge. I have never broken my pledge, 
and by the help of God I never will. I went home after 
you left me, and by the entreaty of my friends, I con? 
menced trading, and am now here to purchase goods. I 
have been prospered in business, and have lately been 
united to the woman of my choice. You have saved my 
soul and body; for I have lately been made acquainted 
with the blessed Savior of sinners. O, if my poor old 
father could get hold of your hand, he would almost 



64 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

wring it from your body for gratitude. " The generous 
heart of the Captain was melted, for he loved the Savior 
too. The flood-gates of his soul were opened, and they 
wept together like two children, shook hands again, and 
exchanged a hearty "God bless you," and parted. 



1. Are opportunities for doing good common, or rare? 
*2. In what manner may persons do good to others'? 

3. What do you consider would be the best possible 
deed that one person could do for another? 

4. Which would you think the better method of doing 
good to others, to perform the acts of kindness yourself, 
or give money to others to enable them to perform the 
same acts of kindness? 

5. Do children ever have opportunities for doing good 
in any manner? 

6. Do persons, who are very poor, and very needy, 
and very ignorant themselves, ever have any opportuni- 
ties for doing good? 

7. What class of persons in the world are entirely pre- 
vented from doing good to others in any manner? 

S. Who have the best opportunities tor doing good '. 

9. Have you ever heard or read of persons who seemed 
to devote their whole lives to the work of making others 
happy? What men have yon known or read of? — What 
women ? 

ers to as many enjoyments as we possibly can. or help 
ourselves to every gratification within our power? 



DOING GOOD. 



66 



10. Which affords the higher satisfaction, to help oth- 
ers to as many enjoyments as we possibly can, or help 
ourselves to every gratification within our power? 

11. Which probably afforded the purer enjoyment to 
Capt. S., in the narrative, the pleasure of earning a dol- 
lar, or that of giving to the poor, friendless sailor the 
same amount'? 

12. Did Captain S. do the sailor good in any other 
way than by giving him a dollar'? In what way? 

13. Which do you think did the sailor the more good, 
the dollar and the breakfast, or the kind words of en- 
couragement and the earnest invitation of the captain to 
make the temperance pledge? 

14. We cannot always help others as we would like 
to do, without making some sacrifices ourselves. What 
is to be done in such a case? 



NARRATIVE. 

Truth stranger than Fiction. — A young man recent- 
ly made his escape from the galleys at Toulouse. He 
was strong and vigorous, and soon made his way across 
the country, and escaped pursuit. He arrived the next 
morning before a cottage in an open field, and stopped to 
beg something to eat, and concealment, while he reposed 
a little. But he found the inmates of the cottage in the 
greatest distress. Four little children sat trembling- in a 
corner — their mother was weeping and tearing her hair 
— and the father walking the floor in agony. The galley 
slave asked what was the matter, and the father replied 

9 



66 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

that they were that .morning to be turned out of doors, 
because they could not pay their rent. "You see me 
driven into despair," said the father, "my wife and little 
children without food or shelter, and I without the means 
to provide any for them." The convict listened to this 
tale with tears of sympathy, and then said : 

"I will give you the means. I have but just escaped 
from the galleys, whoever secures and takes back an es- 
caped prisoner, is entitled to a reward of fifty francs. — 
How much does your rent amount to'?" 

"Forty francs," answered the father. 

"Well," said the other, "put a cord around my body. 
I will follow you to the city; they will recognize me, and 
you will get fifty francs for bringing me back." 

"No, never!" exclaimed the astonished listener; "my 
children should starve a dozen times before I would do 
so base a thing ! " 

The generous young man insisted, and declared at last 
that he would go and give himself up, if the father would 
not consent to take him. After a long struggle the latter 
yielded, and, taking his preserver by the arm, led him to 
the city and to the mayor's office. Every body was sur- 
prised that a little man like the father, had been able to 
capture such a strong young fellow — but the proof was 
before them. The fifty francs were paid, and the prison- 
er sent back to the galleys. But after he was gone, the 
lather asked a private interview with the mayor, to whom 
he told the whole story. The mayor was so much affec- 
ted, that lie not only added fifty francs more to the fa- 
ther's purse, but wrote immediately to the Minister of 
Justice, begging the noble young prisoner's release. The 
Minister examined into the affair, and, finding that it was 
comparatively a small offence which had condemned the 



DOING GOOD. 0/ 

young man to the galleys, and that he had already served 
out half his time, he ordered his release. Is not the 
whole incident beautiful? 



15. Which do you think affords us the purer pleasure, 
to do kind acts to others when it costs little or no sacri- 
fice, or when it costs us great self-denial to render others 
assistance? 

16. If the galley slave, spoken of in the last narrative, 
had given this poor man fifty francs of his own earnings, 
would it have given him as great satisfaction as aiding 
him by surrendering his own personal liberty? 



VAKIED APPLICATION OF EIGHT PEINCIPLES. 



QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1 . hi what maimer may persons help others, who have 
neither money nor property to give? 

2. If you were to speak kind words of encouragement 
to the sorrowful and the unfortunate, in what way might 
you benefit them? 

3. If you should possess the courage to do right, when 
all around you were inclined, strongly, to do wrong, in 
what way might you benefit others? 

4. If you were known, in any case, to repay a severe 
injury, with a kind act, in what way might you benefit 
others ? 



68 



ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 



5. If, before your brothers and sisters, and associates, 
you should always honor and obey your parents, in what 
way might you be doing good to others? 

6. Why may we not neglect any opportunities to do 
good? 

7. If we practice aiding the unfortunate, and helping 
others all we can, will our love for doing good grow 
stronger, or weaker? 

8. Which would you think the better man, the one 
that does the greatest amount of good to others, or the 
one that loves the better to do good? Which of the two 
would you think the happier man? 

9. When we have lived out all of our days, which 
will afford us the greater satisfaction, to think that we 
have secured for ourselves all the comforts and enjoyments 
of this world, or secured as many as possible of these 
for others? 



LESSON IX 



SPEAK EVIL OF NO ONE. 



NARRATIVE. 



The Lost Brooch. — The following incident will help 
to show how very careful we ought to be not to judge 
from appearances alone, but to grant to others the same 
charitable consideration we would enjoy ourselves. 



EVIL SPEAKING. 69 

In summer, our country home is often visited by our 
city friends, and we enjoy their brief sojourn with us. — 
Some time since, a dear friend of my mother came to 
pass several months. She brought her only child, a lovely 
boy, just old enough to run alone, and to fill the house 
with his childish glee. His nurse was a good-natured 
Irish woman. She was rather noisy and officious; the 
house and garden she ransacked at pleasure ; and in the 
farm-house she made herself particularly free. But she 
was kind and faithful to her little charge, and for that 
reason much valued by the child's mother. 

Soon, our farmer's daughter, Mrs. M , came home 

to make her annual visit, bringing her little boy, about 
the age of our little visitor. Master Eddie liked a play 
fellow, and Bridget's visit to the farm-house became still 
more frequent. 

One day Mrs. M came with an anxious face to 

my mother to ask if she thought Bridget perfectly hon- 
est. We were startled at the question, for we had never 
doubted her honesty, and knew that her mistress trusted 

her implicitly. Mrs. M said that she had lost a 

brooch, and she was sure Bridget had taken it ; indeed 
so indignant and excited was she, that I think nothing but 
her regard for my mother prevented her accusing Bridget 
of the theft. 

She had been out walking, and when she returned, took 
out her brooch and laid it on the table. Bridget soon 
came in with Eddie, and stayed some time; after she 

left, Mrs M wanted her brooch, and it was gone! — 

They searched everywhere; the table was moved, the 
drawers emptied, the carpet swept, even the rag-bag was 
turned inside out, and its contents carefully examined, 
because she remembered to have put some pieces in it 
while Bridget was there. But the brooch was not to be 



70 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

found; it could not have gone without hands, and nobody 
was there but Bridget. We were all very much troubled, 
but my mother concluded it was not best to say anything 
to her friend about it; she was away from home, and 
could not, without a great deal of vexation, get another 
nurse, Besides, though appearances were much against 
Bridget, we still hoped the brooch would be found. 

Time passed on, and Mrs. M left for her western 

home, firmly believing that Bridget had her brooch. — 
Our pleasant friend with her darling boy left us, and 
Bridget, quite unsuspicious of our hard thoughts, bade us 
good-bye cheerfully, glad to return to her city compan- 
ions. We settled into our quiet winter habits, with our 
books and work. 

One cold day the farmer came home for a pair of 
woollen socks. His wife told him they were in a bag in 
the closet. There were two bags hanging there; one was 
a rag-bag, the other contained his socks. He hastily put 
his hand into the bag, and pulled out, not a pair of socks, 
but a handful of pieces, with the long-lost brooch ! Mrs. 

M had put her rags into the wrong bag, and the 

brooch with them. 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. When our friends or strangers seem to treat us with 
neglect or disrespect, is it always certain that they intend 
to do so? 

2. If persons seem to do wrong, or omit to do what 
we think is right, is it always certain that their motives 
are bad ? 

3. Will it be safe for us to speak harshly of the acts 



EVIL SPEAKING 71 

of others, while we do not positively know their motives? 

4. In the narrative just given, was the family to blame 
for suspecting that the servant girl had stolen the brooch'? 

5. Would it have been right, under all the circumstan- 
ces, for any one of them to have charged Bridget with 
stealing the brooch? 

6. As Bridget had never been known to steal before, 
would it have been right for any one of the family to have 
mentioned to some intimate neighbor, that Bridget would 
steal? 

7. If the family had united in publicly charging Bridg- 
et with stealing, under the circumstances stated in the 
narrative, and had afterwards learned that she was not in 
any maimer guilty, what would then have been the duty 
of the family? 

8. Would it have been possible for the family, or is it 
possible for any one, to counteract all the consequences 
of wrong acts? 

9. If the servant girl had really stolen the brooch and 
confessed it, what would have been the duty of the fami- 
ly, in case she seemed really penitent? 

10. Would it probably help to reform any one who 
had once been guilty of stealing, to be publicly exposed? 



NARRATIVE. 



Kindness the Best Punishment. — A Quaker, of ex- 
emplary character, was disturbed at night by footsteps 



72 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

around his dwelling, and he arose from his bed, and cau- 
tiously opened a back door to reconnoiter. Close by was 
an out-house, and under it a cellar, near a window of 
which was a man busily engaged in receiving the con- 
tents of his pork barrel from another within the cellar. 
The old man approached, and the man outside fled. He 
stepped to the cellar window, and received the pieces of 
pork from the thief within, who after a little while asked 
the supposed accomplice in a whisper, "Shall we take it 
aH?" The owner of the pork said softly, "Yes, take it 
all ; " and the thief industriously handed up the remain- 
der through the window and then came up himself. Im- 
agine the consternation, when, instead of greeting his 
companion in crime, he was confronted by the Quaker. 
Both were astonished; for the thief proved to be a near 
neighbor, whom none would have suspected of such con- 
duct. He pleaded for mercy, begged the old man not to 
expose him, spoke of the necessities of poverty, and prom- 
ised never to steal again. 

"If thou hadst asked me for meat," said the old man, 
"It would have been given thee. I pity thy poverty and 
thy weakness, and esteem thy family. Thou art for- 
given." 

The thief was greatly rejoiced, and was about to depart, 
when the old man said, "Take the pork, neighbor." 

"No, no," said the thief, "I don't want your pork." 

"Thy necessity was so great that it led thee to steal: 
One half of this pork thou must take with thee." 

The thief insisted that he could never eat a morsel of 
it. The thought of the crime would make it choke him. 
He begged the privilege of letting it alone. But the old 
man was inexorable, and furnished the thief with a bag 
and half of the pork put therein, and laying it on his 
back, sent him home with it. Jlic mot his neighbor daily. 



EVIL SPEAKING. 78 

for many years afterwards, and their families visited to- 
gether, but the matter was kept a secret; and though in 
after time the circumstance was mentioned, the name of 
the delinquent was never known. The punishment was 
severe and effectual. It was probably the first, it was 
certainly the last attempt of his to steal. 

Had the man been arraigned before a court of justice, 
and imprisoned for the petty theft, how different might 
have been the result! His family disgraced, their peace 
destroyed, the man's character ruined, and his spirit bro- 
ken. Revenge, not penitence, would have swayed his 
heart, the scorn of the world would have darkened his 
future, and in all probability he would have entered upon 
a course of crime at which, when the first offence was 
committed his soul would have shuddered. And what 
would the owner of the pork have gained? Absolutely 
nothing! Kindness was the best punishment, for it saved 
while it punished. 

11. What course would most persons have pursued, 
if they had detected a neighbor in the act of stealing, as 
the Quaker did? 

12. Would the Quaker have been any better, or any 
richer, or any happier man, if he had publicly exposed 
the conduct of this neighbor 1 ? 

13. What would probably have been the effect upon 
the man and his family, if the Quaker had spoken of this 
matter to a few intimate friends? 

14. When we positively knmv that others have faults, 
what is always the better course for us to pursue? 

15. Have you ever known cases where those who have 



74 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSORS. 

spoken harshly and unkindly of the conduct or motives 
of others, have, at the same time, abused their best friends? 



NARRATIVE. 

Good for Evil. — An old man, of the name of Guyot, 
lived and died in the town of Marseilles, in France: he 
amassed a large fortune by the most laborious industry, 
and the severest habits of abstinence and privation. — 
His neighbors considered him a miser, and thought he 
was hoarding up money from mean and avaricious motives. 
The populace pursued him, whenever he appeared, with 
hootings and execrations, and the boys sometimes threw 
stones at him. In his will were found the following 
words: — "Having observed, from my infancy, that the 
poor of Marseilles are ill-supplied with water, which can 
only be purchased at a great price, I have cheerfully la- 
bored, the whole of my life, to procure for them this 
great blessing; and I direct that the whole of my prop- 
erty shall be laid out in building an aqueduct for that 
purpose. " 



16. Suppose the old man of Marseilles, spoken of in 
the last narrative, had really been a miser, would that 
have been a sufficient excuse for anybody to abuse him? 
— to speak unkindly of him? 

17. Does it increase or diminish our enjoyments, to 
receive favors from those we know we have deeply 
wronged? 

18. Which was probably the greater sufferer for the 



EVIL SPEAKING. 75 

abuse of the old man of Marseilles, the old man himself, 
or the people he benefitted? 

19. In the narrative of the Quaker and his neighbor. 
in what maimer was the Quaker benefitted by not expos- 
ing the crime of his neighbor ? 



VARIED APPLICATION OF RIGHT PRINCIPLES. 
QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. When persons speak ill of others, do those who 
thus speak derive any benefit? Do those who listen 
derive any benefit? Do the slandered persons derive 
any benefit? Wlio does derive any benefit? 

2. Is the person who slanders another, himself injured 
in any way? How? 

3. Are persons who listen to slanders, the sufferers in 
any way? In what way? 

4. Are slandered persons the sufferers in any way? — 
In what way? 

5. When your associates begin to speak unkindly of 
others, in your presence, what would you consider to be 
your duty? 

6. But suppose you know they are telling only the 
truth, would it be well to listen to them? — to remind 
them of their duty to the absent ? 

7. Will those who know our faults best, and feel most 
anxious to aid us in correcting them, be more, or less likely 
to speak of them to others? 



76 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

8. Some persons speak of the faults of their best 
friends, to one or two other particular friends, and charge 
them never to tell anybody else. What would you think 
of this habit? 

9. Which do you think are generally the greater suf- 
ferers, the slandered persons, or the slanderers? 

10. What is the best possible course for everybody to 
pursue, respecting the faults of others? (Never to make 
them a subject of conversation, except from a clear sense 
of duty.) 

11. Will it be easy to always practice the above rule? 
Is it 'possible for us to do so? 

12. But if persons will speak unkindly of you, how 
can you escape injury from their slanders? (Live so 
that nobody will believe them.) 



LESSON X 



CAREFULLY LISTEN TO CONSCIENCE, AND ALWAYi 
OBEY ITS COMMANDS. 



NARRATIVE. 



The Gold Sovereign. — "When 1 was only eight 

years old," said Judge N , "my father and my 

mother being poor, with half a dozen children better than 
myself to take care of, I was given to a farmer in the 



CONSCIENCE. 77 

town of F , who designed making a plough boy of 

me, and keeping me in his service until I was of age. 

"Well, I had not a very gay time in Deacon Webb's 
service : for although he was an honest deacon, and a tol- 
erably kind man in his family, he believed in making- 
boys work, and understood how to avoid spoiling them 
by indulgence. 

"So I had plenty of work to do and an abundant lack 
of indulgence to enjoy. It was consequently a great 
treat for me to get the enormous sum of one or two pen- 
nies into my possession by any sort of good fortune — a 
circumstance of such rare occurrence, that at the age of 
eleven I had learned to regard money as a blessing be- 
stowed by Providence only on a favorite few. 

"Well, I had lived with Deacon Webb three years 
before I knew the color of any coin except vile copper. 
By an accident I learned the color of gold. That is the 
story I am going to tell you. 

One Saturday night, Mr. Webb sent me to the village 
store on an errand; and, on returning home, just about 
dusk, my attention was attracted by a little brown pack- 
age, lying on the road-side. 

"I picked it up to examine its contents, without the 
slightest suspicion of the treasure within. Indeed, it was 
so light, and the volume of brown paper appeared so 
large, that I undoubtedly supposed that I was the victim 
of an April fool, although it was the month of June. I 
tore open the folds of the paper, however : and discern- 
ing nothing, I was on the point of throwing it into the 
ditch, Avhen something dropped out of it, and fell with a 
ringing sound upon a stone. 

' ; I looked at it in astonishment. It was yellow, round, 
glittering, too bright and too small for a penny; I felt of 
it, I squeezed it in my fingers, I spelled out the inscrip- 



. v ELEALEXTJlRY moral lessons, 

- . the . at meH Ins . me that it 

coin of incalculable value, at if I did not wish to 

js it. I had better po ~ - - - s] ssihle, 

*■ Trembling with excitement. I put the coin in 
pocket. But it would o - stay there. Every two min- 
utes I had to take it out and look at it. But. whenever I 
met somebody. I carefully put it out of sight. Some- 
how. I felt a guilty dread of finding an owner to the 
Provided I found none. I thought it was honestly mine, 
by right of discovery: and I eon lyseJf with the 

sophistry that it was not my basins » I gc about the 
streets, crying. 'Who's I - 

"I went home with the gold in my pocket. I w 
not have the deacon's folks know what I had found, for the 
world. I was sorely troubled with the fear of losing my 

sore. This was not all. It 
seemed to me th it my face I s&ray secret. I i 

not I : ^ /-body with an honest eye. 

"These troubles kept me awake half the night, and 
projects tor securing my treasure by a safe in 9f 
the other half. On the following morning. I was fever- 
ish and nervous*. When Deacon Webb, at the break&st 
tank - 

- William!" 

-I started _ ords 

would be : 

"Where is that pk f gold you have found, and - 
edly i rightful owner?" 

"I want you to go to M tins mc ;:iing, and 

ask him if he . id to 

morrow. ** 

"I felt immensely re/ ft :he house, an-:. _ 

f sight as s tas ss£ 

•it of mx least Is beauty. — 



was jntiof??. Cce^rcness of wrr^ troubled 

Would I not be eaDed a tme£ if discovered? I asked my- 
<e££ Was it not as i^:^ to conceal what I lad fcund. 
as to take ike same amount orismally from the •> wn^r*- 

-Why. if I don't know who the loser :>. bow earn 1 
sive klm las money ! It is odr because I am afiaid 
Deacon Webb will take it away from me. that I conceal 
it: that's aEL I would not steal sold: and if the owner 
c me lor it, I would srce H to mm. I apolo- 
S all the way to Mr. Bakhrms boose: 
bai. after alLkwom&it do. The sold was. Kke a heavy 
stone to my heart. It was a sort of unhappy charm, 
which save an evil spirit power to torment me. And I 
eonld not help thinking I was not half so well pleased 

— ~ i_7 :iv v.:_ - - I 'zji.~_ ' erz. — m : :■?— 

per. which I had mund some weeks be&re. Nobody 
■^ ^—7- -'- ^- - ••--"' -" - i z'zrr Zt ~ 
and I had been as happy as a kins — or as a kins 
is supposed to be. 

I it Baldwin was not at home: and I returned to the 
deacon's honse. I saw Mr. War " . _ 

the sate, and I was terribly gammed. Mr. Wardly 

iifi: so I hid hi the garden mmi he went away. By that 
time reason began topsevuO orer cowardice, and I made 

■ "- - ~~ . - "- -. 7 - '•:- : -._-.- 



thought Jl &e£ns; fcmt- he's 90 
Bnt he only scolded me r'.-r being so keg abont my 



80 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

His severe words sounded sweet, I had expected some- 
thing so much more terrible. 

"I worked all day with the gold in my pocket. I 
wonder Deacon Webb did not suspect something, I stop- 
ped so often to see if the gold was really there; for, 
much as the possession of it troubled me, the fear of 
losing it troubled me scarcely less. I was miserable. I 
wished a hundred times I had not found the gold. T felt 
that it would be a relief to lay it down on the road-sid e ; 
again I wrapped it in brown paper, just as I had found it. 
I wondered if ill-got wealth made everybody so miser- 
able. 

"At night I was sent again to Mr. Baldwin's, and, hav- 
ing found him, obtained his promise to work at Deacon 
Webb's on the following day. 

"It was dark when I went home, and I was afraid of 
robbers. I never felt so cowardly in my life. It seemed 
to me that anybody could rob me with a clear conscience, 
because my treasure was not mine. I got home and went 
trembling to bed. 

"Mr. Baldwin came early to breakfast with us. I 
should tell you something about him. He was an hon- 
est poor man, who supported a large family by hard 
work. Everybody liked him, he was so industrious and 
faithful ; and, besides making good wages for his labor, 
he often got presents of meal and flour from those who 
employed him. 

"Well, at the breakfast table, after Deacon Webb had 
asked the blessing, and given Baldwin a piece of pork", so 
that he might eat and get to work as soon as possible, 
something was said about the 'news.' 

"'I suppose you have heard about my misfortune.' said 
Mr. Baldwin. 

" ' Your misfortune ! ' 



CONSCIENCE. 81 

"■Yes/ 

•••Why, what has happened to you?' asked the deacon. 

••■I thought everybody had heard of it,' replied Bald- 
win'. "You see, the other night when Mr. Woodly paid 
me. he gave me a gold piece." 

••1 started, and felt the blood forsake my cheeks. All 
eyes were fixed upon Baldwin, however, so my my trou- 
ble was not observed. 

" 4 A sovereign," said Baldwin, "the first one I ever had 
in my life; and it seemed to me that if I should put it 
in my pocket, like a cent, or half dollar, [ should lose it. 
So, like a goose. I wrapped it in a piece of paper, and 
stowed it in my coat pocket, where I thought it was safe. 
1 never did a more foolish thing. J must have lost the 
coin in taking out my handkerchief; and the paper would 
prevent its making any noise as it fell. I discovered my 
loss when I got home, and went back to look fin* it; but 
somebody must have picked it up/ 

"I felt like sinking through the floor. 

••'I don't know," replied the poor man, shaking his head 
sadly, -He's welcome to it, wdioever he is; and I hope 
his conscience won't trouble him more than the money is 
worth; though Heaven knows I want my honest earnings.* 

"This was too much for me. The allusion to my con- 
science brought the - gold out of my pocket. I resolved 
to make a clean breast of it, and be honest, in spite of 
poverty and shame. So I held the gold in my trembling 
hand, and said: 

ti; Is this yours, Mr. Baldwin?' 

"My voice was so faint that he did not hear me. So 
I repeated my question in a more courageous tone. All 
eyes were turned upon me in astonishment, and the dea- 
con demanded when and where I had found the gold. 

;, I burst into tears, and confessed everything. 1 ex- 
11 



82 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

pected the deacon would whip me to death. But he pat- 
ted my head, and said, more kindly than was his wont : 

"■ Don't cry about it, William. You are an honest 
boy, if you did come near falling into temptation. Al- 
ways be honest, my son, and, if you do not grow rich, 
you will be happy with a clear conscience.' 

-But I cried still — for joy. I laughed, too, the deacon 
had so touched my heart. Of what a load was I relieved ! 
I felt then that honesty was the best policy. 

"As for Baldwin, he declared that I should have half 
the money, for finding it; but I wished to keep clear of 
the troublesome stuff for a time, and I did. I would not 
touch his offer; and I never regretted it, boy as I was. 

"Well, I was the deacon's favorite after this. He was 
very kind to me, and trusted me in everything. I was 
careful not to deceive him; I preserved the strictest can- 
dor and good faith; and that has made me what I am. — 
When he died, he willed me five hundred dollars, with 
whieh I came here and bought new lands, which are now 
worth a great many sovereigns. But this has nothing to 
do with my story. That is told ; and all I have to add 
is, I have never regretted clearing my conscience of poor 
Job Baldwin's sovereign." 



QUESTIONS FOlt ILLUSTRATION. 

1. What faculty tells as when we do right and when 
we do wrong 1 ? 

2, A boy was oner in a garden aJone, among some 
plum trees. He had not taken any of the fruit; he was 
only tMnking he would, yet every time he heard the least 
noise like footsteps, or the rustling of leaves, he began to 
tremhU, Can anv one tell whfrt made him (rouble* 



n 



CONSCIENCE. 88 

3. Not long since, some boys at play near a school 
building, when they saw a man walking quietly towards 
them, suddenly started and scampered away in all direc- 
tions. What do you suppose caused them to run so? 

4. If our appetite should demand some fruit, would it 
be right for us to deny our appetite for a time if we 
should prefer to do so? 

5. If our love company should prompt us to visit with 
others, would it be right to deny ourselves this pleasure, 
for a time, if we should prefer to do so? 

(5. If we feel a very strong anxiety to attend to a par- 
ticular study, or read an interesting book, may we refrain 
from doing so, if we prefer to do so? 

7. l( conscience should forbid us to eat or to visit, or 
to study, may we disobey it if we please? 

8. What made the boy, who found the gold coin, feel 
so much uneasiness while he kept the money concealed in 
his pocket? 

9. When he saw the constable's horse, what made him 
fear the constable was near for the purpose of arresting 
him? 

10. What made the boy feel so cowardly when he went 
home at dark? 

11. What makes anybody feel cowardly at any time? 

12. Why did not the boy keep the money, instead of 
giving it to be Mr. Baldwin, as no one knew that he had 
found it? ' 

13. What made the boy feel m happy when he had 
given the sovereign to the real owner? 



84 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

14. What affords to anybody, the purest, sweetest 
pleasure they ever enjoy? 

15. Why was not the boy willing to accept of hall" of 
the money, when it was offered to him ? 

16. What is harder to endure than the pains of a guilty 
conscience? 



NARRATIVE. 

An Honest Act. — A rare instance of the upbraidings 
of conscience occurred a few days since, which deserves 
a passing notice. A farmer residing a few miles from 
this place, calling on one of our oldest established mer- 
chants, stated that on a certain day, more than 1 1 years 
ago, he had passed on him a counterfeit $10 bill, describ- 
ing the note. The merchant, who had always been in 
the habit of preserving a small book kept for the pur- 
pose, all counterfeits, as well as the date of their re- 
ception, on referring to it, found the bill, as well as the 
date at wdiich he had received it, corresponding with the 
farmer's words. The latter, on taking hold of the bill, 
tore it into fragments, with apparent satisfaction, and de- 
sired the merchant to calculate the interest, which having 
been done, he paid the w4iole amount in good money. — 
He had received the note, the farmer stated, at the time, 
for a genuine one, but did not know of whom, and just 
starting in the world, could not afford to lose so much; 
and, besides this, his wife argued that he had as good a 
i-ight to pass it off as the person who had imposed it upon 
him. Ever since the day on which he had passed it, his 
conscience had goaded him; but now it would be at ease, 
and he went off as contented as if he had received a cap- 
ital prize. 






CONSCIENCE. 85 

15. Why did the farmer remember for eleven years 
that he had passed this counterfeit bill, while the merchant 
had forgotten it? 

16. Why did the farmer feel so -contented," after 
he had torn up the counterfeit bill, and paid good money 
and interest for it? 



VARIED APPLICATION OF EIOHT PEINOIPLES. 



QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. When our conscience approves our conduct, how 
will misfortune affect us? 

2. If, while busily engaged at work, you should acci- 
dentally, but not carelessly, seriously injure your brother, 
or sister, or friend, would conscience cause you uneasi- 
ness and pain? 

3. But if, in anger, you should injure another, though 
it should be known to no one but yourself, could you al- 
ways feel calm and satisfied with your conduct? 

4. If your friends and acquaintances should strongly 
suspect you of stealing, when you well knew you were 
not guilty, how would you feel? 

5. Will conscience always admonish us when we are 
about to do wrong? 

6. If one should continue to disregard the warnings of 
conscience, as in the habit of profane swearing, what do 
you think the effect would be? 

7. But if we succeed in silencing conscience now, or 



86 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

for a little time, will it ever become aroused, and cause 
us sorrow and remorse? 

8. Can we forget what we have ever done, when we 
please to do so? 

9. How long will conscience give us pain for the wrongs 
we do? 

10. How long will conscience give us pleasure for 
obeying its commands? 



11. When we find ourselves doing, or about to do, 
lat we are afraid to have oth< 
course ought we at once to take? 



what we are afraid to have others see and know, what 



12. If we were required to suffer the loss of everything 
we hold dear in this world, or disobey conscience, which 
would it be better for us to do? 

13. Have you ever heard or read of persons who have 
suffered a cruel death rather than disobey conscience? 



LESSON XI. 



WE MUST FORGIVE ALL INJURIES, AS WE HOPE TO BE 

FORGIVEN. 



NARRATIVE. 



Forgiveness of Injury by a Sailor.— Charles John- 
son, a fine looking young sailor, was brought in this 
morning to answer for kicking out the right eye of Joseph 



FORGIVENESS. 87 

Martin, another sailor. He pleaded that he would not 
contend. On the 22d of May, Martin was lying drunk 
in Hanover street, and Johnson, he also being under the 
influence of liquor, upon seeing a brother thus hard up. 
crossed over to arouse him and get him up. Martin re- 
sented his benevolent interference, and applied to him 
a very coarse and irritating epithet. Being in liquor 
himself at the time, Johnson was not in a condition to 
overlook a galling insult from the lips of any man, either 
drunk or sober, and gave Martin a furious kick, which 
accidentally took effect in his eye, and destroyed the 
sight of it. Martin was called upon the stand, to state 
what he knew of the circumstances, and what were his 
wishes in relation to the disposition of the case. He 
said, in reply to questions put by Judge L. S. Gushing — 
"I do not know how we came together. I only recollect 
what took place after. T had not known Johnson before, 
and he didn't know me. So he could have had no grudge 
against me. His kicking me in the eve must have been 
an accident. I could almost swear it was an accident,— 
He could not have intended to do so. It is impossible 
that he could mean to have done it; I know he didn't. 
He has done all he can for me since. He has given me 
all he can with his means. He has given me twenty- 
five dollars, but I don't care for that, and if he hadn't got 
it to give. I shouldn't think any different about it. He 
has done all he could for me. I should be sorry if he 
was punished, for I must have been to blame in the first 
place. If I hadn't spoke to him as I did, he wouldn't 
have kicked me." While poor Martin was uttering these 
words of true forgiveness, he was unable to hold his head 
up on account of the weakness of his remaining eye. 
which was sympathetically affected, and as yet unable to 
stand even the mild light of the court room. Surelv 



88 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

such a man may venture to approach the Heavenly Fa- 
ther with the prayer- — "Forgive my trespasses, even as 
I have forgiven him who has trespassed against me. " — 
The Judge was deeply impressed with Martin's manner. 
and was satisfied that he desired Johnson should not be 
severely punished; and, in consideration of Martin's 
wish, and that Johnson had already been five weeks in 
jail, he sentenced him to ten days' imprisonment, and to 
pay the costs of prosecution. C. A. Andrews appeared 
for the defendant, but, as the Judge remarked, "Martin 
had said, and well said, about all that could, with propri- 
ety, be advanced in favor of Johnson." 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. When we are conscious we have wronged others in 
any manner, what is our first duty? 

2. But suppose others have injured us very much, 
while our wrong to them has been very trifling, what is 
to be done ? 

8. If others have injured us, and are still disposed to 
injure us, and do not ask or desire us to forgive them, 
yet, if we are conscious of having injured these same 
persons in any manner, what will be our duty? 

4. But suppose. we regard those we have wronged as 
very much our inferiors, and as persons who can never, 
in any way, injure us in return, what shall we do? 

5. If we believe that those we have wronged will nev- 
er speak of the injuries we have done them, to ourselves. 
or to any one else, what shall we do? 



fOftattaxiM. 8fl 

b\ Is it degrading to any person to ask forgiveness of 
those he has intentionally injured? 

7. Do yon think more, or ?m highly of your compan- 
ions when they frankly say they have injured you, and 
they are sorry for it? 

8. Some persons arc very forward to ask forgiveness 
when they fear they have done wrong, and some are very 
reluctant to do so. Which class do you respect the more 
highly? 

9. What must be thought of a person who is unwilling 
to ask forgiveness for any of the injuries lie has done to 
others? 

10. Some persons arc very prompt, and very willing, 
to forgive injuries. Was the the sailor, Charles Martin. 
in the last narrative, prompt, or reluctant? 

11. Perhaps some persons would have thought it more 
honorable in Charles Martin, if he had kicked out the 
right eye of Johnson. Which do you think the more 
honorable course? 



NARRATIVE. 

Manly to .Resent; Godlike to Forgive. — A gentle- 
man went to Sir Eardley Wilmot, at one time Lord 
Chief Justice of the Court of Common Pleas, and having 
stated to the Judge an injury he had received, asked him 
if he did not think it manly to resent it. "Yes," said 
Sir Eardley, "it would be manly to resent it, but it would 
be Grodlihe to forgive it! " This reply completely altered 
the feelings of the applicant. 
12 



90 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

12. Which is the first feeling with most people, to re- 
sent injuries, or to forgive them? 



NARRATIVE. 

Washington's Acknowledgment. — In 1755, Washing- 
ton, then a young man twenty-two years of age, was sta- 
tioned with his regiment at Alexandria. At this time an 
election for public officers took place, and the contest be- 
tween the candidates became exciting and severe. A 
dispute took place between Mr. Payne and Washington, 
in which the latter (an occurrence very uncommon with 
him) became warm, and said something which gave Mr. 
Payne so much offence that he knocked Washington down: 
instead of flying into a passion, and sending him a chal- 
lenge to fight a duel, as was expected, Washington, upon 
mature reflection, finding he had been the aggressor, re- 
solved to ask pardon of Mr. Payne on the morrow. Ac- 
cordingly he met Mr. Payne the next day, and extended 
his hand in a friendly manner: "Mr. Payne," said he, "to 
err is nature ; to rectify error is glory. I find I was wrong 
yesterday, but I wish to be right to-day. You had some 
satisfaction yesterday, and if you think that was sufficient 
here is my hand, let us be friends." It is hardly neces- 
sary to state that ever afterwards they were so. 



13. Would persons, who think it honorable to fight, be 
likely to approve of Gen. Washington's course, as given 
in the foregoing narrative? 

14. Do you think it was creditable to so great a man 
as Gen. Washington, 1<> ask forgiveness, as he did. after 
lie had received an injury himself? 



^pRGIVENESS. Dl 

NARRATIVE. 

"I will not Rise till you Forgive me." — Kino- 
James II. one day lost some important papers relating to 
a marriage that he was trying to bring about between one 
of his sons and a princess of Spain. He continued to 
hunt for these papers, until at last he got into a great rage 
because he could not find them. lie went from room to 
room, looking here and there, but without success; the 
papers were not to be found. 

At last he met an old Scotch servant by the name of 
Gib, who had been a long time . in his service, and he 
charged him with having lost his papers. The old servant 
told the king respectfully, that he knew nothing of them, 
and certainly had not lost them. But the king grew very 
angry, and said, "Gib, I remember I gave them to you 
to take care of. What have you done with them'?" — 
Gib fell down on his knees and declared that he did not 
receive them. This only made the king the more angry, 
as his word was contradicted by the servant, and he 
kicked him as he kneeled on the floor at his feet. Gib 
rose from his knees and left the apartment, saying, ' ; I 
have always been faithful to your majesty, and have not 
deserved such treatment as this. I cannot remain in 
your service under such a degradation. I shall never see 
you again. He immediately left the place with the in- 
tention of returning no more. 

Not long after the old Scotchman left, the person to 
whose care the king had actually committed the papers, 
came in and presented them to him. The king was 
ashamed of his conduct towards Gib, and forthwith sent 
some one in pursuit of him ; but it was some time before 
he could be found and induced to return to the presence 
of one who had treated him so badly. At last he con- 



92 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

sented. and when lie came into his room, the king, in his 
turn, got down upon his knees before the servant Gib, 
and said he would not rise until he forgave him. The ser- 
vant tried to evade the matter, and asked the king to rise, 
but he would not until the servant told him, in so many 
words, that he fully forgave him. 

Some may think this was weak in a king, but there is 
something noble and praiseworthy in it. It is an exam- 
ple worthy of imitation. If you injure any one, no mat- 
ter how poor or humble, have the magnanimity to confess 
it, and ask pardon for the injury done. 



15. Is it an indication of greatness, or meanness in any 
one, to ask forgiveness of those who are much inferior in 
station or attainments? . 



VARIED APPLICATION OF EIGHT PRINCIPLES. 



QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. Are there any persons in the world who never need 
forgiveness from others? 

"2. Suppose after a person has wronged you once, and 
you have forgiven him, that he wrongs you again, and 
asks to be forgiven, what must you do? 

•>. How many times must you forgive those who do 
you an injury, if, for each wrong, they are sorry, and ask 
to be forgiven '. 

4. Il others do you an injury, and do not asjv or wish 
to be forgiven, what are vou to do? 



HELP ONE ANOTHER. 03 

5. If we have forgiven those who have treated us un- 
kindly, how ought we to act towards them afterwards? 

6. If Ave had wronged others and been forgiven, how 
should we wish them to treat us? 

7. May we ever receive injuries so great, that we may 
refuse to forgive them? 

8. Have you ever read or heard of any persons who 
were unwilling to forgive those who had injured them? 



LESSON XII. 



LEARN TO HELP ONE ANOTHER. 



NARRATIVE. 

The Disobliging Bo v. — Some folks who are very 
disobliging, are not aware of it. Now there is Sam 
Hobbs, as pleasant a fellow as any in the school. He 
was a good scholar, diligent and studious, and always 
ready to join a friend on an excursion of pleasure. He 
was not naturally disobliging, but acquired the bad habit 
in this way. I've heard a boy many a time say, "lend 
me your knife, Sam, will you?" "1 can't, for I haven't 
any, and besides 1 want to use it myself," he would re- 
ply; or if they said, "let me see your knife, Sam, will 
you?" he would take it out and show it to them, and 
then say, " There, you've seen it, " and then back he 
would put it in his pocket. He always refused in such 



04 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

a pleasant way, that they were rarely if ever offended, 
and it was a long time before they discovered how often 
he disobliged them. 

One day when lie was absent from school, the boys 
had a public meeting, and agreed unanimously that we 
would convince him how disobliging he was, and in such 
a way that he could have no excuse for being angry. — 
The next day when he came, one of the first things he 
said was. "Where is the lesson to-day?" "I can't, for I 
haven't any, besides, I want to use it myself, : ' was the 
reply. He asked another, who holding the book up at 
such a distance that he could not read it, said, "there, 
you've seen it. " Every question he asked, was answered 
with one of his old answers. At length he began to 
grow angry ; but when he got to his seat, and thought of 
it, he was surprised to think how often he had disobliged 
his friends; the fact was, he had never thought of it be- 
fore; but now his eyes were opened, and he felt really 
sorry that he had disobliged persons so much, and he de- 
termined not to be angry with his schoolmates, let them 
disoblige him, as they would. He tried not to ask them 
any question; but he constantly forgot it, and received 
as an answer to all his enquiries, "I cant, for I haven't 
any; besides, I want to use it myself. " 

He came to school in the afternoon in great tribulation; 
he was at the head of his class in Arithmetic, and felt 
very anxious to remain there; but in his lesson of this 
day, there was a sum that he could not understand. In 
vain he applied to one after another to explain it, but all 
the answer he got was. -1 can't, for I haven't any; and 
I >< sides. I want to use it myself. " There was one scholar 
who eame late; to him he applied, and to his great sur- 
prise and joy. his friend did the sum: but oh, provoking! 
just as he reached his hand out for the slate, it was with- 



HELP ONE ANOTHER. 95 

drawn, and the old words, "there, you've seen if." was 
the answer. He could hear it no longer ; but burst tnt< > 
tears. His schoolmates really Liked him. and when they 
saw how badly he felt, they were very sorry that they 
had carried the joke so far. After school they all came 
and shook hands with him, and told him why they did it. 
He acknowledged that he had done wrong, and after that. 
he seldom refused to oblige a person, when it was proper; 
if he did, we had but to say — "I can't, for I haven't any: 
besides, I want to use it myself." and he would instantly 
oblige us. 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. Have you ever observed any difference in persons, 
respecting their willingness to vender assistance to others? 

:2. Does any one need to learn to be kind and atten- 
tive to the welfare of others, or may one be so without 
thought, and without effort, and without practice ? 

3. Did the boy in the narrative need to learn to be 
obliging to his associates, or was he able to be always 
kind, by simply resolving to be sol 

4. In what maimer can persons become so willing and 
anxious to make all happy around them, that they will 
deny themselves almost every comfort to accomplish 
this object? 

5. If we constantly study how we may help others, 
may we find many, or few opportunities to do so? 

6. Some persons are so selfish that they seem never 
once to think of the comforts of others. Is it probable 
that such persons admire selfishness in others? 



96 ELEMENT A UV MUitAt LESSORS. 

7. Very selfish persons are sometimes sick, or other- 
wise unfortunate, and need kind attentions from somebody. 
Is it our duty to show such persons the same attentions 
we would show to others? 

8. Some persons are very obliging to particular friends 
thinking they may receive in return, at some time, as 
many favors as they bestow. Do such persons deserve 
any credit for generosity ? 

9. If we help every one we can, willingly, and with no 
wish nor expectation of favors in return, in what way 
shall we still benefit ourselves?. 



NARRATIVE. 

Help one another. — A traveler who was passing over 
the Alps, was overtaken by a snow-storm at the top of a 
high mountain. The cold became intense. The air was 
thick with sleet, and the piercing wind seemed to pene- 
trate into his bones. Still the traveler, for a time, strug- 
gled on. But at last his limbs were quite benumbed^- 
a heavy drowsiness began to creep over him — his feet al- 
most refused to move; and he lay down on the snow to 
give way to that fatal sleep, which is the last stage of ex- 
treme cold, and from which he would certainly never 
have waived up again in this wqrlcl. -lust at that moment 
lie saw another poor traveler coming up along the road; 
the unhappy man seemed to lie. if possible, even in a 
\v( >rse condition than, himself. For lie, too, could scarcely 
move; all his powers were frozen, and he appeared just 
<>n the point to die. 

When he saw this poor man. the traveler, who was just 
going to lie down to sleep, made a great effort. He 



HELP ONE ANOTHER. ( .>? 

roused himself up, and he crawled, for he was scarcely 
able to walk, to his fellow sufferer. 

He took his hands into his own. and tried to warm 
them. He chafed his temples; he rubbed his feet; he 
applied friction to his body. And all the time he spoke 
cheering words in his ear. and tried to comfort him. 

As he did this, the dying man began to revive; his 
powers were restored, and he felt able to go forward. — 
But this was not all ;. for his kind benefactor, too, was 
recovered by the efforts he had made to save his friend. 
The exertion of rubbing made the blood circulate again 
in his own body. He grew warm by trying to warm the 
other. His drowsiness went off, he no longer wished to 
sleep, his limbs returned again to their proper force, and 
the two travelers went on their way together, happy, and 
congratulating one another on their escape. 

Soon the snow- storm passed away; the mountain was 
crossed, and they reached their homes in safety. 

If you feel your heart cold towards others, and your 
soul almost perishing, try to do something which may 
help another soul to life, and make his heart glad; and 
yon will often find it the best way to warm, and restore. 
and gladden your own. 

10. In the foregoing narrative, in iiow many ways was 
the traveler, who restored his companion to activity and 
lite, benefitted? 

1 1. Suppose he had commenced rubbing his compan- 
ion, with the single desire of warming and benefitting h im- 
self, in what manner would the traveler then have been 

benefitted'? 

12. When we would help our friends, or strangers, or 
the unfortunate, what must always be our motives in do- 
ing so? 

i 3 



98 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 



YAKIED APPLICATION OF EIGHT PRINCIPLES. 



QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. May any person in the world be excused from help- 
ing another, or helping the needy'? 

'2. Children are sometimes neglected by their associ- 
ates, or by others, because they are not as well dressed, 
or as well appearing as other children. In what way 
could you help such unfortunate children? 

3. Which would be the more acceptable service to the 
neglected or unfortunate, to show them attention, kind- 
ness, sympathy and respect, when they were abused, or 
to make them presents of money or clothing? 

4. Which do you think would be more in need of jour 
kind assistance, those who are so unfortunate as to be 
poor and ignorant, or those who are so thoughtless or 
reckless as to treat unfortunate persons unkindly? 

5. In what manner could you help those who would 
thoughtlessly, or intentionally, injure the feelings of un- 
fortunate children ? 

(5. If your kind advice, and your good example, should 
seem to be entirely lost, the first time, upon those who 
are abusive to the unfortunate, would you think it your 
duty to advise them again and again? 

7. Which would you give more pleasure, to have small 
favors rendered you very cheerfully and willingly^ or 
greater ones very reluctantly? 

8. After you have rendered favors to others, is it well 



SELF-CONTROL. &9 

to mention the matter to your friends and to strangers 1 



•TV 



9. Is it well ever to remind those to whom you have 
made presents, or upon whom you have, in any manner, 
conferred favors, of your liberality or kindness? 

10. What course of conduct and of secrecy ought ev- 
ery one to pursue who renders assistance, in any manner, 

to another? 



LESSON XIII. 



THE GREATEST CONQUEROR IS THE SELF-CONQUEROR 



NARRATIVE. 

A Noble Example. — About the year 1776, a circum- 
stance occurred which ought to be written on adamant. 
In the wars of New England, with the aborigines, the 
Mohegan tribe of Indians early become friends of the 
English. Their favorite grounds were on the banks of 
the river (now the Thames) between New London and 
Norwich. A small remnant of the Mohegans still exist, 
and they are scarcely protected in the enjoyment and 
possession of their favorite domain on the banks of the 
Thames. The government of this tribe became heredit- 
ary in the family of the celebrated chief Uncas. During 
the time of my father's mercantile prosperity, he had 
employed several Indians of this tribe in hunting animals 
whose skins were valuable for their furs. 



100 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

Among these hunters, there was one named Zachary, 
of the royal race, an excellent hunter, but as drunken 
and worthless an Indian as ever lived. When he had 
somewhat passed the age of fifty, several members of 
the royal family, who stood between Zachary and the 
throne, died, and he found himself with only one life be- 
tween himself and the empire. At this moment his bet- 
ter genius resumed its sway, and he reflected seriously, 
"How can such a drunken wretch as I aspire to be a 
chief of this honorable race? What will my people say? 
— and how will the shades of my ancestors look down, 
indignant upon such a base successor? Can I succeed to 
the great Uncas? I will drink no more! " He solemnly 
resolved never to taste any drink again but water, and 
he kept his resolution. 

I had heard this story and did not entirely believe it ; 
for young as I was, I already partook of the prevailing 
contempt for Indians. In the beginning of May, the an- 
nual election of the principal officers of the (then) col- 
ony, was held at Hartford. My father attended officially, 
and it was customary for the chief of the Mohegans also 
to attend. Zachary had succeeded to the rule of his 
tribe. My father's house was situated about mid-way on 
the load between Mohegan and Hartford, and the old 
chief was in the habit of coming a few days before the' 
election, and dining with his brother Governor. One 
clay the mischievous thought struck me to try the old 
man's temperance. The family were seated at dinner, 
and there was excellent home-brewed beer on the table. 
I addressed the old chief: 

"Zachary, this beer is excellent — will you taste if?" 

The old man dropped his knife and fork, leaned for- 
ward with a stern intensity of expression — his black eye. 
sparkling with indignation, was fixed on me: 



SELF-CONTROL. 101 

"John," said he, "you do not know what you are do- 
ing. You are serving the devil, boy ! Do you not know 
that I am an Indian? I tell you I am, and if I should 
but taste your beer, I could not stop until I got to rum, 
and again become the contemptible drunken wretch your 
father remembers me to have been. John, while you 
live, never again tempt a man to break a good resolu- 
tion. " 

Socrates never uttered a more valuable precept. De- 
mosthenes could not have given it in more solemn tones 
of eloquence. I was thunderstruck. My parents were 
deeply affected ; they looked at each other, at me, and at 
the venerable Indian, with deep feelings of awe and re- 
spect. They afterwards frequently reminded me of the 
scene, and charged me never to forget it. Zachary lived 
to pass the age of eighty, and sacredly kept his resolu- 
tion. He lies buried in the royal burial place of his 
tribe, near the beautiful fall of the Yantic, the western 
branch of the Thames, in Norwich, on land now owned 
by my friend, Calvin Goddard, Esq. I visited the grave 
of the old chief lately, and repeated to myself his ines- 
timable lesson. — Col. TrumbulVs Autobiogtaphy. 

QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. How do those who play skilfully upon musical in- 
struments, acquire such control over their fingers or 
hands? 

2. How do those who read well, or sing well, acquire 
such control over their voices? 

o. How does the good scholar obtain such command 
over his thoughts that he can give close attention to study 
in the midst of confusion, if he pleases to do so? 



102 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

4. Will effort and practice, enable persons to control 
their appetites and passions, as well as their fingers, or 
voices, or thoughts? 

5. Can any one learn to uniformly practice self-control 
ii'lthout effort and practice? 

(5. When is the best time to commence learning to 
write, or to sing, or to play on musical instruments. — at 
the age of ten, fifteen, twenty or forty years? 

7. At what age is the best time to begin to practice 
habits of self-control? 

8. Why did the Indian, in the last narrative, find it 
such a fearful thing to attempt to keep his appetite under 
control? 

9. Why does any one find it so difficult to conquer bad 
habits? 

10. Would you expect that an ignorant, uncultivated 
person, would control his appetites and passions, as well 
as one who has good opportunities for instruction ? 

11. If an uneducated Indian, fifty years of age, could 
conquer his bad habits, cannot other persons do so? — 
How? 



NARRATIVE. 

Tjie Basket of Peaches. — Half a century ago, that 
excellent man, the Rev. William Woodbridge, established 
in the town, now city, of Newark, a boarding-school for 
young ladies. His residence was on the upper Green, in 
a large stone building, afterwards the property of A.. 



SELF-CONTROL. 10d 

Dey, Esq., and attached to the house was a large, deep 
garden, well filled with fruit trees. 

The venerable preceptor could sit in his back parlor, 
and while unobserved, have a tolerably good view of the 
entire garden, and of all the young ladies who delighted 
t<> frequent it. lie was greatly pleased to see his young 
and joyous flock of charming girls gambolling under the 
trees and enjoying the beauties of nature when robed in 
the glories of early summer, and he did not fail to im- 
prove every opportunity to enforce some valuable truth. 

It was about midsummer that he noticed one luxuriant 
peach-tree laden with green fruit so plentifully, that the 
boughs were bowed down under its weight. He natu- 
rally supposed that the beautiful tinge upon the ripening 
peach might tempt his young friends to taste of the fruit 
before it was fully ripe; and one lovely afternoon, just 
before sunset, he called the young ladies into the parlor 
and kindly and affectionately expostulated with them on 
the danger of eating unripe fruit, and he promised that 
those who refrained from plucking the green fruit, should, 
have it all when matured. Each bright and happy face 
yielded a full assent to this reasonable proposition, and* 
ran down into the garden with unwonted delight. 

This tree, in particular, was an object of great atten- 
tion, and the warm days of summer were fast preparing, 
for this happy throng a delicious feast. They daily 
watched its progress towards maturity, and manifested 
sometimes no little impatience. 

The venerable minister and teacher, as he sat in his 
back parlor, and as the peaches were fast approaching 
to maturity, could sometimes see the uplifted hand of 
some young lady plucking the forbidden fruit. He., 
however, said nothing until the time arrived when the. 
peaches were perfectly ripe. He had the fruit carefully 



104 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

gathered, and the very choicest of it filled a large basket. 

He placed it in the back parlor and called in all the 
young ladies, and took occasion, on exhibiting it, of en- 
forcing the propriety of his former injunction, and assured 
them of the gratification it now afforded him of present- 
ing to them a basket of delicious fruit fully ripe; and 
requested those who had not plucked any green peaches 
from the tree, to come forward and partake bountifully 
of the large supply. 

To his surprise, all remained motionless except one 
little girl. She, with a gentle step, approached the ven- 
erable teacher. "My dear,*' said he, "have you not eat- 
en a single peach?" She laid her little hand upon her 
breast, and sweetly replied, "Not one, sir." "Then," 
said the excellent man, "the whole basket full is yours." 

The happy girl took them and made distribution among 
all her school -fellows. How pure the joy which flows 
from obedience, and how pure its reward ! 



12. Why was the little girl, in the last narrative, more 
successful in controlling her appetite than her older asso- 
ciates? 

1 3. Which would you think the more difficult to con- 
quer, a strong appetite, or a violent, hasty temper? 



NARRATIVE. 



Anger. — It is common among children to get angry 
with their companions, about little, trifling things, which 
arc not worth disputing about. We have seen the flushed 
cheek, and the raised arm of a youth, for no other reason 
than simply because he had been contradicted bv an asso- 



SKLF-COXTROL. 105 

date. But it is easy to subdue your angry feelings if 
you but make the attempt. When irritated, or injured 
in any way. reflect a moment on what your duty is — and 
be noble-minded enough to pay no attention to a supposed 
insult, and endeavor to eonvince your companion of the 
impropriety of his conduct. For if you suffer your pas- 
sion to he indulged, the evil will increase with your years. 
and it may he with you as it has been with hundreds, 
who. in an unguarded moment, have committed an act 
that forever after deprived them of enjoyment, if not oc- 
casioned their death. 

In England, a man living near Barnard Castle, was 
ploughing a field adjoining his cottage. His son, a young 
boy, who was driving, happened to displease him; at 
which he flew into a violent rage, and in his fit of fury, 
struck the boy with the plough-staff so dreadful a blow, 
that the poor child fell down and died on the spot. When 
the father saw that the son was dead, he uttered three 
loud and agonizing shrieks; on hearing which, his wife 
ran out of the house to the place, leaving a young child 
iu the cradle, and the door open. When she came back, 
she found her infant torn and mangled to death, by a sow. 
that had gone into the house during her absence. In her 
frenzy of grief, the wretched mother ran to the river, 
which was hard by, and throwing herself in, was drown- 
ed. To finish the tragedy, this most unhappy man, who, 
by yielding to the temptations of undue anger, at the 
fault of his child, thus dreadfully saw himself bereft, was 
apprehended and committed to York castle, to take his 
trial for the slaying of his son. 



14. If you have yielded to your angry feelings once r 
will you be more, or less likely to do so again'? 



,10(5 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

15. Is it probable the man, spoken of in the last nar- 
rative, had ever been angry with any one before? 

16. What difference is there between persons who al- 
low themselves to be wholly controlled by anger, and 
persons at the Insane Asylum, who have lost the use of 
their reason? 



VALUED APPLICATION OP EIGHT PRINCIPLES. 



■QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. After you have controlled your appetite once, will 
it be more, or less easy to do it again? 

2. If you have thoroughly controlled your hasty tem- 
per, or your angry feelings once, will it be more or less 
easy to do it again? 

3. Sometimes when children are called to account for 
being in a quarrel, they try to excuse themselves by say- 
ing that they cannot help it. Do you think this a good 
•excuse? What excuse should be given? 

4. Sometimes scholars leave school without permission 
of parents or teachers. They give as a reason for doing 
so, that other boys urged him to go. and they could not 
help going. Do you think this a good reason? What 
reason should be given ? 

5. Children sometimes speak unkindly to their mother 
when they are denied any favor. Do you think they 
might refrain from unkind words if they would try? 

6. Some children who would not speak unkindly to a 



PROFANITY. 1 07 

j nether or sister, feel angry if they are denied a favor. 
Do you think they might help their angry feelings if they 
would try? 

7. Do some children control their actions voaAfeeUngs 
too? If some do. may not all. if they would try? 

8. How would you try to prevent feeling angry if 
some one should do you mi injury I 

9. Which would you think the greater accomplishment, 
the ability to control your temper well. or the ability t«:» 
Hincf well/ 

1 0. What accomplishment do you think more desira- 
ble than the ability to control all your appetites and pas- 
sions I 

11. In what manner is any one ever to become a self- 
conquerer? 



LESSON XIV. 

SWEAR NOT AT ALL. 

NARRATIVE. 

Profane Swearing. — Brother 8 and myself were 

entertained during the Convention, at the house of a med- 
ical gentleman, eminent in his profession, but addicted, it 
was said, to profanity in ordinary conversation. With- 
out a premonition, no suspicion of so blameworthy a prac- 
tice could have arisen in our minds; for no real Christian. 



I OS ELEMENTARY MOKAL LESSONS. 

ever showed guests greater courtesy, or seemed so far 
from profaneness than our gentlemanly host. He did not 
even annoy us with lady-like mincings, putting forth the 
buddings of profanity in "la me! — good gracious!" and 
the like. 

But on Sabbath night, our conversation taking a reli- 
gious turn, the subject of profane swearing was incidentaliy 
named, when I could not resist the temptation of drawing 
a bow at a venture ; and so I said : 

"Doctor, we leave you to-morrow; and be assured wo 

are very grateful to Mrs. D and yourself; but may 

1 say, dear sir, we have been disappointed hereto 

"Disappointed!" 

"Yes, sir, most agreeably " 

"In what, Mr. C V'" 

"Will you pardon me, if I say we were misinformed. 
and may I name it?" 

"Certainly, sir, say what you wish." 

. -'Well, my dear sir, we were told that Doctor D 

was not guarded in his language. — but surely you are 
misrepresented " 

"Sir," interrupted he, "I do honor you for candor; yet. 
sir, I regret to say, you have hot been misinformed. 1 
do, and perhaps habitually, use profane language: but, 
sir, can you think I would swear before religious people, 
and one of them a clergyman?"" 

Tears stood in my eyes, (the frank-hearted) less of a gen- 
tleman always starts them,) as 1 took his hand and replied : 

" My dear sir, you amaze us ! Can it be that Dr. D . 

so courteous and intelligent a man. lias greater reverence 
for us, than for the venerable G<><i!" 

••Cenik )iK-n., : " replied the Doctor, and with a tremu- 
lous voice, "1 never did before see the utter folly of>pr©~ 
fane swearing. ! wilt abandon it forever." 



PROFANITY. 109 

Reader, are you profane? Imitate the manly recan- 
tation of my estimable friend, Dr. D . 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. Many persons, like the Doctor, in the preceding 
narrative, accustomed to the use of profane language,, 
suddenly refrain from it when coming into the presence 
of those they consider worthy of much respect. Why is 
this? 

2. If it is not right or proper to swear before respecta- 
ble people, when and where is it right or proper to swear? 

3. What advantage does any one derive from swearing? 
If none, why do persons practice it? 

4. Would it be a good excuse for stealing, if the thief 
should plead that it was fashionable? 

5. Is it a good excuse for swearing, because one is very 
angry? Would it not be right, or excusable, to lie, or 
to steal when one is angry, if it is to swear? 

(3. Some persons never think of using a profane word, 
much less do they ever use one. Might every one re- 
frain from doing so, if they would? 

7. After boys have learned to swear, what other bad 
habits may be expected soon to follow, if they are not 
already formed? 



EXTRACT. 



A Nest of Vipers. — When you hear any one use pro- 
fane language, you will not wrong him if you conclude 

14 



HO ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

that this is only one of the nest of vipers which he carries 
in his heart ; and although this is the only one that now 
hisses, yet each in his turn, is master of the poor wretch 
who is giving his life-blood to feed them. 



8. Would you think it safe for a bay who w T ould 
swear, to have charge of money in a store? Why not? 

9. Some persons seem to think that it is an indication 
of very great ability in a person to swear frequently. 
Do jo\\ think that it requires a great intellect to utter 
great oaths? 

10. Other persons seem to suppose that it is a proof 
of very great courage, to swear occasionally or fequently. 
If a man or boy possesses any true courage, do you see 
any necessity for swearing about it? 

11. If profanity is not a proof of greatness or courage, 
of what is it a proof? 



narrative. 

Washington's Opinion of Profane Swearing. — 
That the troops may have an opportunity of attending 
public worship, as well as to take some rest after the 
great fatigue they have gone through, the General, in fu- 
ture, excuses them from fatigue duty on Sundays, except 
at the ship-yards, or on special occasions, until further 
orders. The General is sorry to be informed that the 
foolish and wicked practice of profane cursing and swear- 
ing, a vice heretofore little known in the American Army, 
is growing into fashion; he hopes the officers will, by ex- 
ample as well as influence, endeavor to check it, and that 



SELF-CONTROL. Ill 

both they and the men will reflect that we can have little 
hope of the blessing of Heaven on our arms, if we insult 
it by our impiety and folly ; added to this, it is a vice so 
mean and low, without any temptation, that every man 
of sense and character detests and despises it. 



VARIED APPLICATION OF RIGHT PRINCIPLES. 
QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AN]) GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. If you had a dear friend, woidd you think it any 
mark of true greatness to wantonly injure his feelings by 
often speaking his name reproachfully? 

2. Would you have a right to expect that such an one 
would remain your friend, if you thus repeatedly used 
his name contemptuously ? 

3. Some persons use all the forms of an oath, omitting 
or changing the most objectionable words. What would 
you think of the propriety of this habit? 

4. Would you think it respectful to raise your arm and 
strike a blow at the face of a superior, though you were 
ever so careful not to really hit him? (No more is it 
safe or proper to use the forms of an oath, though the 
most irreverent expressions be omitted.) 

5. Some persons in telling a story, or in relating the 
conversation of others, repeat the profane expressions that 
have been made, thinking they add very much to the in- 
terest, or show the parties to be very toitty. What would 
you think of the propriety of laughing at, or repeating 
profane expressions? 

6. Do you think that it is your duty ever to reprove 
those who use profane language? 



LESSON XV. 



BE FAITHFUL TO EVERY TEUST. 



NARRATIVE. 

The Capture of Major Andre. — One of the saddest 
pages in the history of the American Revolution is the 
treason of Arnold, and, in consequence of it, the death of 
Major Andre. Arnold, you know, was an officer in the 
American Army, who, though brave, had a proud and 
impatient spirit. He fancied he had not all the honor 
and the pay due for his services, and having plunged him- 
self into debt by his expensive style of living, these things 
soured his heart; and, as is the case with ungenerous 
minds, he never acknowledged a fault or forgave an inju- 
ry. More than this, he sought revenge against his coun- 
trymen by plotting treason against his country. 

Soon after forming this bad design, he opened a seeret 
correspondence with the English general, Henry Clinton, 
and at the same time asked Washington to give him the 
command of West Point, an important fort on the Hud- 
son river. Washington let him have it, and this he de- 
termined to betray into the hands of the enemy, provided 
he could make out of it a good bargain for himself. He 
wrote to Clinton what he would do, and asked to have a 
secret interview with some English officer, in order to 
agree upon the terms. Clinton was delighted, for he 
thought that an army divided against itself must prove 
an easy conquest, and he asked Major Andre, a gallant 
young officer, to meet Arnold and settle the price of his 
treason. 



FAITHFULNESS. US 

Andre did not wish to engage in such business, but he 
obeyed and went up the Hudson in an English sloop-of- 
war for this purpose. Arnold agreed to meet him at a 
certain spot, and, when night came on, sent a little boat 
to bring him ashore. He landed at the foot of a moun- 
tain called the Long Clove, on the western side of the 
river a few miles from Haverstraw, where he found the 
traitor hid in a clump of bushes. Little did poor Andre 
foresee the fatal consequences of this step. All that still 
starlight night the)' sat and talked; daylight came, and 
the business was not concluded. Arnold dismissed the 
boatmen, and led his companion to a solitary farm-house 
on the river's bank, where the papers were finally drawn 
up and hid in one of Andre's stockings. Andre felt how 
exposed he was to danger in the enemy's country, and 
heartily wished himself back to the sloop. 

Forced now, however, to go by land, Arnold gave him 
a pass to go through the American lines, and at sunset 
he set off' on horseback with a guide. They crossed the 
river, and getting along on their dangerous journey With 
but few alarms, the guide left, the next mormng, and An^ 
dre rode briskly on. congratulating himself upon leaving; 
all danger behind, for he was rapidly n earing the English 
lines, when all at once there was a loud shout, "stand," 
''halt," and three men issued from the woods, one seizing 
his bridle and the others presenting their guns. He told: 
them he had a pass to White Plains, on urgent business . 
for General Arnold, and begged them not to detain himr 
but, somehow or other, the men, suspecting that all was 
not right, began to search him, and hauling off his boots, 
they discovered his papers in his stockings. Seeing him- 
self found out, he offered them any sum of money to let 
him go. "No," answered the sturdy men, "not if you 
would give us ten thousand guineas ;" for though poor. 



114 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

they were above selling their country at any price. An- 
dre was sent a prisoner to Washington's camp. Arnold 
on learning the news of his capture, immediately fled 
from West Point, and made his escape to the English 
• sloop. 

According to the rules of war poor Major Andre was 
sentenced to the death of a spy. Great effort was made 
to save him. General Clinton offered any sum to redeem 
him. So young, so amiable, so gallant, and to meet a 
felon's doom! but in ten days he was hung. 

Arnold lived, but with the thirty thousand dollars — the 
price of his treachery — he lived a miserable man, des- 
pised even by those who bought him. And one impres- 
sive lesson which the story teaches is, that the consequen- 
ces of guilt do not fall alone on the guilty man; others are 
often involved in distress, disgrace and ruin. How the 
helpless children of the drunkard suffer on his account! 
How the poor wife of the forger passes her days in grief! 
How vicious children bring the gray hairs of their pa- 
rents to the grave ! The innocent everywhere suffer with 
the guilty, for we are all bound together by ties which 
cannot be broken. If the good may bless us, so also the 
bad may prove a curse to us. What a motive is this for 
you to lead a virtuous life, fearing God and hating every 
evil way. 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. Have you ever read or heard of any one who has 
stood at his post of duty, even when danger and death 
seemed to be very near'? Whom? 

2. Have you ever known or heard of any one who de- 
serted the post of duty for any reason? Whom? 



FAITHFULNESS. 115 

3. Were the sentinels who arrested Major Andre, 
placed in a position of greater, or less responsibility, than 
was General Arnold'? 

4. Were the sentinels more, or less faithful to their 
duty, than was General Arnold to his'? 

5. Which deserves the more honor, the person who 
holds a very small trust, and yet is very faithful to that 
trust, or a person who holds a position of great impor- 
tance, and is neglectful of its duties? 

(3. Which will be the longer remembered and honored, 
the three faithful sentinels who arrested Major Andre, and 
refused all oners to release him, or most of the early Gov- 
ernors of the States'? 

7. When persons are not faithful in little things, what 
would you expect of them in greater trusts] 



NARRATIVE. 

"I'll do it Well." — There lives in New England a 
gentleman who gave me the following interesting account 
of his own life. He was an apprentice in a tin manufac- 
tory. When twenty-one years old he had lost his health, 
so that he was entirely unable to work at his trade. 
Wholly destitute of means, he was thrown out upon the 
world, to seek any employment for which he had strength. 

He said he went out to find employment with the de- 
termination, that whatever he did, he would do it well. 
The first and only thing he found that he could do, was to 
black boots and scour knives in an hotel. This he did, and 
did it well, as gentlemen now living would testify. Tho' 



11(5 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

the business was low and servile, he did not lay aside his 
self-respect, or allow himself to be made mean by his 
business. The respect and confidence of his employers 
were soon secured, and he was advanced to a more lucra- 
tive and less laborious position. 

At length his health was restored, and he returned to 
his legitimate business, which he now carries on very ex- 
tensively. He has accumulated an ample fortune, and is 
training an interesting family by giving them the best ad- 
vantages for mental and moral cultivation. He now 
holds an elevated place in the community where he lives. 

Young men who may chance to read the above state- 
ment of facts, should mark the secret of success. The 
man's whole character, of whom I have spoken, was/brw- 
ed and directed by the determination to do whatever he 
did, well. 

Do the thing you are doing so well that you will be 
respected in your piace, and you may be sure it will be 
said to you, " Go up higher" 



8. Is it degrading to any one to attend, faithful^ to 
the smallest duty? 

9. Which will the sooner create confidence with em- 
ployers, fine clothes and polite manners, or close atten- 
tion to their interests? 



NARRATIVE. 

The Prompt Clerk. — 1 once knew a young man, (said 
an eminent preacher the other day, in a sermon to young 
men,) that was commencing life as a clerk. One day his 






FAITHFULNESS. 117 

employer said to him, "Now, to-morrow that cargo of 
cotton must be got out and weighed, and we must have a 
regular account of it." 

He was a young man of energy. This was the first 
time he had been intrusted to superintend the execution 
of this work : lie made hh arrangements over night, spoke 
to the men about their carts and horses, and, resolving to 
begin very early in the morning, he instructed all the la- 
borers to be there at half-past four o'clock. So they set 
to work, and the thing was done ; and about ten or eleven 
o'clock in the day, his master came in, and, seeing him 
sitting in the counting-house, looked very blank, supposing 
that his commands had not been executed. 

"I thought," said the master, "you were requested to 
get out that cargo of cotton this morning." 

"It is all done," said the young man, "and here is the 
account of it." 

He never looked behind him from that moment — 
never! His character was fixed, confidence was estab- 
lished. He was fomid to be the man to do the thing with 
promptness. He very soon came to be the one that 
could not be spared — he was as necessary to the firm as 
any one of the partners. He was a religious man, and 
went through a life of great benevolence, and at his death 
was able to leave his children an ample fortune. He was 
not smoke to the eyes, nor vinegar to the teeth, but just 
the contrarv. 



11. We are sometimes in the service of others where 
they can not know whether we are attending faithfully to 
their interests or not. What rule of conduct should we 
observe under such circumstances'? 



118 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 



VARIED APPLICATION OF EIGHT PRINCIPLES. 



QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. If your father or mother were dangerously ill, and 
the attending physician should omit to call for one day, 
because the weather was very stormy, would you think he 
was faithful to his duty? 

2. Suppose the physician should omit to call for one 
day when your relative was dangerously ill, because he 
had a chance to make one hundred dollars by staying at 
home, do you think he would be faithful to his duty ? 

3. Suppose, instead of coming himself, he employs 
some other physician to attend for one day, because he 
has a chance to make fifty dollars in some way. would 
this be faithfulness to duty? 

4. But if your friend should recover just as well as if 
the regular physician had attended every day, would it 
make any difference respecting his faithfulness in the 
case? 

5. Suppose a boy who is employed in a store, locks 
the door and goes away fifteen minutes to see a show in 
the streets, does he do his duty? 

6. But if no one calls in his absence, though he has 
been out of sight of the store fifteen minutes, does it 
make any difference respecting his faithfulness? 

7. If a boy were directed by his father to carry a let- 
ter to the Post Office and hand it to the Post Master, 



NEATNESS. 119 

and, because he wished to see the lire companies on pa- 
rade, he should send the letter by another boy, would he 
be doing his duty'? 

8. But suppose the letter should really be placed in 
the Office just as soon, m&just as safely, as he could have 
done it himself, would the son have done his duty? 

9. Instead of wishing to see the parade of lire com- 
panies, suppose that he saw a storm coming up, and that 
he should send the letter by another boy, lest he should 
be caught in the rain, would he be doing his duty ? 

1(5. If, while on his way to the Post Office, he is in- 
formed by another boy that the Office is closed, and that 
he cannot get in, what ought he to do? 



LESSON XVI. 



BE NEAT. 



NARRATIVE. 



Neatness a Fortune. — In a recent conversation with 
a wealthy merchant, he remarked that whatever he had 
acquired was owing, in a great measure, to the fact that 
liis mother had brought him up to be neat when a boy. 

His story, as nearly as I can recollect it, was as fol- 
lows: 

"When I was six years old, my father died, leaving 
nothing to my mother but the charge of myself and two 



120 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

younger sisters. After selling the greater portion of the 
household furniture she had owned, she took two small 

upper rooms in W street, and there, by her needle, 

contrived, in some way — bow, I cannot conceive, when I 
recollect the bare pittance for which she worked — to sup- 
port us in comfort. Frequently, however, I remember 
that our supper consisted simply of a slice of bread, sea., 
soned by hunger, and rendered inviting by the neat man- 
ner in which our repast was served, our table being al- 
ways spread with a cloth, which, like my mother's heart, 
seemed ever to preserve a snow-white purity." 
Wiping his eyes, the merchant continued : 
"Speaking of those days reminds me of the time when 
we sat down to the old table one evening, when my moth- 
er had asked the blessings of our Heavenly Father on 
her little defenceless ones, in tones of tender pathos, that 
I remember yet, and which, if possible, I think must have 
made angels weep, she divided the little remnant of her 
only loaf, into three pieces, placing one on each of our 
plates, but reserving none for herself. I stole around to 
her side and placed my portion before her, and was about 
to tell her that I was not hungry, when a flood of tears 
burst from her eyes, and she clasped me to her bosom. 
Our meal was left untouched, we sat up late that night, 
but what we said, I cannot tell. I know that my mother 
talked to me more as a companion than a child, and that 
when we knelt down to pray, I consecrated myself to be 
the Lord's and to serve my mother. 

"But," said he, "this is not telling you how neatness 
made my fortune. It was sometime after this that my 
mother found an advertisement in the newspaper for an 
errand boy in a commission store in B — street. With- 
out being necessitated to wait to have my clothes mended, 
for my mother kept them in perfect order, and although 



NEATNESS. 121 

on minute inspection they bore traces of more than one 
patch, yet, on the whole, they had a very respectable air ; 
without being obliged to wait even to polish my shoes, 
for my mother always kept a box of blacking, with which 
my cowhides must always be set off before I took my 
breakfast; without waiting to arrange my hair, for I was 
obliged to observe from my earliest youth, the most per- 
fect neatness in every respect, my mother sent me to see 
if I could obtain the situation. With a light step, I start- 
ed, as I had for a long time wished my mother to allow 
me to do something to assist her. 

"My heart beat fast, I assure you, as I turned out of 

W into B street, and made my way along to- 

the number my mother had given me. I summoned all 
the courage I could muster, and stepped briskly into the 
store, found my way to the counting-room, and made 
known the reason of my calling. The merchant smiled, 
and told me that there was another boy who had come 
in a little before me he thought he should hire. How- 
ever, he asked me Tsome questions, and then went and 
conversed with the other boy, who stood in the back part 
of the office. The result was, that the lad who had first 
applied was dismissed, and I entered the merchant's em- 
ployment, first as an errand-^oy, then as a clerk, after- 
wards as his partner until his aecease, when he left to me 
the whole business, stock, &c. After I had been in his 
service some years, he told me the reason he chose me 
in preference to the other boy, was because of the general 
neatness of my person, while in reference to the other lad, 
he noticed that he had neglected properly to turn down 
his vest. To this simple circumstance has probably been 
owing the greater part of my success in business/' 

Will not all my young friends who read this narrative 
of the successful merchant, like him. form in their vouth 

15 



122 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

habits of neatness? Remember that no one will love a 
slovenly boy or girl, and if you would secure the respect 
of your acquaintances, you must be very careful in re- 
spect to your personal appearance. Purity and cleanli- 
ness of person are indispensable to the highest purity of 
character. 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. Is it probable that persons, who are not themselves 
neat in their habits, like to see neatness in others'? 

2. Some persons do not give much attention to per- 
sonal cleanliness for the reason that it takes so much time. 
Do you think this a good 0x01180? 

3. Other persons excuse themselves from attention to 
cleanliness because they are poor. Is poverty any excuse 
for filthy habits? 

4. Might the mother, in the last narrative, have offered 
poverty as an excuse for dirty children, as well as any 
one? Did it cost this good mother a very great sum to 
keep her children neat? 

5. Is it probable that the habits of cleanliness which 
these children practiced, was any cause of suffering to 
them? 

<>. Do you suppose that persons who are very particu- 
lar in their habits of cleanliness, can perform as much la- 
bor or as much study, as others? 

?. But some very useful employments make it neces- 
sary that those who follow them should be in the midst 
< >f smoke, or dust, or dirt, for a time. What advice could 



NEATNESS. 1 23 

you give to such persons, respecting cleanliness and neat- 
ness? 

8. What advice on the subject of neatness and personal 
appearance, would you give to children, or to the unfor- 
tunate, who desire kind attentions from friends or from 

strangers? 



EXTRACT. 

Personal Appearance of Children. — Some writer, 
but his name we do not know, holds the following ration- 
al discourse in relation to the dressing of children : 

Send two children into the street ; let one be a bare- 
headed, bare-footed ragmuffin, with a face which perhaps 
never had but one thorough washing, hair that never heard 
of any comb, and nobody would think of giving him a 
hand to help him through any mud-puddle or over any 
gutter; or if he should get run over in the street, you 
would hear no other remark, than that he was a dirty dog, 
and might have got out of the way. On the other hand, 
send a sweet girl into the street, looking like a new blown 
rose, with the glistening dew-drops hanging from its leaves, 
and above all, her face as clean as air, as transparent as 
you know her untainted mind is under all this, and there 
is not a chimney sweep so low that he would not give her 
the side-walk; nor a clown, even among the clownish, 
who would not, if he dared touch her, wipe his hands up- 
on his clothes, and with delight carry her over the cross- 
ings rather than that she should soil even the sole of her 
slipper. 

9. When is it proper to begin to practice habits of 
neatness ? 



124 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

10. What slovenly and dirty habits ought pupils to 
avoid in the school-room? 

11. If pupils should never come into the school-room 
with dirt upon their shoes or clothes, never spit upon the 
floor, and never allow papers or litter of any kind about 
their seats, in what ways would the teacher and all of the 
pupils be thereby benefitted'? 

12. Where would you first look for virtuous conduct, 
among persons of very neat personal appearance, or among 
persons of careless, slovenly, filthy habits'? 

13. Which would you think the more becoming in a 
lady or gentleman, a very expensive dress — yet soiled 
with dirt and grease, or a very plain dress — yet scrupu- 
lous! y neat and clean? 



LESSON XVII. 



RIGHT ACTIONS SHOULD SPRING FROM RIGHT MOTIVES. 



NARRATIVE. 

The way witii some People. — Deacon S once 

employed a cobbler to take a few stitches in a boot, for 
which service he was asked half a dollar. The demand 
was considered exorbitant; but the deacon was not a man 
to have trouble with his neighbor on a trifling matter, so, 
without a word of objection, it was cancelled. "All will 
come round right in the end," he said to himself 



motives'. 125 

Next morning, the deacon, who was a farmer, was on 
his way to his field with oxen and plough, when the cob- 
bler came out of his shop and accosted him. 

" Good morning, deacon. You're just the man I hoped 
to see. The case is, I've hired the field yonder, and am 
going to sow it with wheat; but being no former myself, 
I wish you would stop and give me a little insight into 
the business." 

The other was about to excuse himself, for he felt par- 
ticularly anxious to finish a piece of ploughing that day, 
which he could not if detained at all, when remembering 
the boot-mending, thought he, " The afiair is coming right 
so soon. Here is an opportunity for illustrating the Gold- 
en Rule, and returning good for evil. I will render the 
assistance he needs, and when he asks what's to pay, will 
answer, ' Nothing, sir, nothing. I never make account of 
these little neighborly kindnesses.' That will remind 
him of yesterday." 

So the deacon readily consented to do as requested, and 
going over to the field, commenced and finished sowing 
a bushel of grain ; scarcely thinking, meantime, of how 
his team was standing idle in the cool of the day ; but 
glorying in anticipation of the smart his neighbor would 
suffer from the living coals about to be heaped upon his 
head. The employer, who, seated on a pile of stones in 
the centre of the field, had watched the process in silence, 
now rose to his feet, and very deliberately advanced to- 
wards the obliging farmer. 

"Now for my revenge," thought the latter, seeing him 
about to speak; but the other only carelessly remarked, 
"It isn't much to do a thing when one knows how." 

The deacon made no reply, but stood awaiting the 
question, " How much do you ask for your labor 1 " He 
waited in vain, however; the question was not asked. — 



12(5 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

The other began to speak on indifferent topics; and the 
farmer, unwilling to lose more time, turned and hurried 
away to where he had left his team. He had gone some 
distance along the road, when a voice was heard calling, 
"Hallo, deacon. Hold on there a minute." 

The deacon turned his head, and his neighbor, the cob- 
bler, beckoned him back. 

"He's just thought of it," said the deacon to himself, 
half impatient at being again stopped. "My triumph is 
to cost about as much as 'tis worth, but I'll have it after 
all. Urge as he may, I won't take a single dime." 

So saying, he secured his oxen to a post by the road- 
side, and ran back as far as the wall, against the opposite 
side of which the cobbler was carelessly leaning. 

"Why, how you puff, deacon; there's no special haste 
called for. I merely thought to ask whether you don't 
imagine we shall have rain soon. You farmers pay more 
attention to these things than we mechanics do?" 

The deacon coughed a full minute, and then answered 
that he "really could'nt say, but it seemed pretty near 
cool enough for snow;" and giving this opinion, he once 
more set his face farm ward; musing as he went, whether 
it might not have been well to have attached to the Gold- 
en Rule a modifying clause, suited to dealing with such 
people as his neighbor of the awl and last. 

The deacon loves, to this day, to tell the story and 
laugh over it; but he never fails to add, " Well, well, it 
ended just as it should; inasmuch as I was wickedly cal- 
culating on rejoicing over my neighbors humiliation" 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. Was it right in Deacon S. to assist his neighbor in 
sowing his wheat? 



MOTIVES. 127 

2. Would it have been right for him to have charged 
his neighbor a reasonable price for his services? 

3. But the deacon did not charge his neighbor anything 
for the assistance he rendered him. Do you see anything 
wrong in the deacon's conduct? 

4. If the Deacon really intended to render his neighbor 
some assistance, in return for an injury he had received^ 
with what motive should he have undertaken to do so? 

5. May persons be guilty of great crimes, and yet dh 
no wrong? 

6. If a person should try to break into your house to 
steal your goods or your money, but should not succeed 
because he was discovered, would he be guilty of stealing! 
Why* 

7. If a person should try to take the life of another, but 
should not succeed because he was so closely watched, 
would that person be guilty of murder? 

8. Suppose you had been late to school this morning, 
and you had made up your mind that, if called upon for 
an excuse, you would give some other reason than the 
true one; but you did not happen to be called upom 
Would you be guilty of any wrong 1 

9. Suppose you had whispered this morning, and, fear- 
ing you would suffer some penalty if you confessed it, 
you had made up your mind that if the scholars who had 
whispered were called upon to arise, you would not do so: 
but such scholars were not called on. Would you be 
guilty of any wrong? 

10. Suppose you are very anxious to see the fire com- 



128 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

panies on parade, and you determine that if your mother 
will not let you go, you will run away and see them. 
But when you ask her, she says "yes, you may go." If 
you then go, will you be guilty of any disobedience to; 
your mother? 

11. May persons deserve credit for virtuous deeds 
which they have never performed'? 

12. If a rich man, desiring to help a poor family, should 
give them ten dollars to buy food and clothing, and a very 
poor man, just as anxious to help the same family, should 
give them ten cents for the same purpose, which of the 
men do you think would deserve the more credit? 

13. If a boy, very anxious to help his poor father, 
should earn five dollars for him in a month and bring it 
home to him, and a little sister, just as anxious to help 
her mother, should work just as hard, one month, and 
earn two dollars and bring to her, which do you think 
would deserve the more credit? 

14. If a boy, very anxious to help his father, should 
work a month and earn five dollars for him, while the 
sister, who had undertaken to earn just as much for her 
mother, should be taken sick and use all of her money 
for medicine and assistance, which would deserve the 
more credit? 

15. If you were to do well from good motives, at the 
time, and should afterwards boast of your good deeds, 
or take pains to have others know them, would you still 
deserve credit for doing well? 



MOTIVES, 129 



NARRATIVE. 



The Drayman. — An honest drayman was standing on 
the wharf, when a little boy fell into the water. No one 
exerted himself to rescue the child, and the stream was 
fast bearing him away. The poor drayman seeing this, 
sprang into the water, swam to the child, took him in his 
arms and brought him safely to the wharf. He put him 
in the care of one who promised to see him safely home, 
w r hile the drayman resumed his labors as if nothing had 
happened. On his return home, the drayman's family 
were surprised at his humid appearance, and made a num- 
ber of inquiries, to which he gave unsatisfactory answers, 
and it was passed off as a subject beneath their inquiry. 
About two Y\'eeks after this occurrence, on going home, 
the drayman found three persons waiting his arrival — a 
man with his wife and child. "That is the man, father, 
that is the man," exclaimed the boy. The father sprang 
from his seat and threw his arms around the neck of the 
drayman, and expressed his gratitude in tears. 

"Come, sir," said he, "come and visit a family which 
you have saved from, destruction — take the blessings of a 
father and mother, who, but for your intervention, would 
have been overwhelmed in sorrow — whose only son you 
have rescued from the watery element." 

This was the first knowledge the drayman's family had 
of the circumstance, When the conversation turned on 
his silence, he made no other relpy than to read the fol- 
lowing verses from the Bible: 

"Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to 
be seen of them, otherwise ye have no reward of your 
Father who is in Heaven. — Therefore when thou doest 
thine aims, do not sound a trumpet before thee as the 
hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that 



130 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

they may have glory of men ; verily I say unto you, they 
have their reward. But when thou doest thine alms, let 
not thy left hand [here the drayman cast a glance round 
upon his family,] know what thy right hand cloeth, that 
thine alms may he in secret, and thy Father who seeth 
in secret shall reward thee openly." 

Such a spirit of Christian benevolence, we desire to be 
possessed by every child. We should not value our own 
convenience — our life even — if we can save another from 
death. Nor should we spread abroad our good deeds. 
It is sufficient for us to know that our heavenly Father 
approves of what we have done. He knoweth when we 
are useful, and he will not let us lose our reward. 



16. How many things do you see in the conduct of 
the drayman to approve? 



VARIED APPLICATION OF EIGHT PRINCIPLED 



QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. Suppose a father should privately say to his son, 
"John, if you will help me in the field to-day," I will give 
you fifty cents at night," and to James, privately, "if you 
will help me in the field to-day, you may go a hunting 
to-morrow," and to Henry, privately, "if you will help 
me to-day, you may go with me to visit your cousins 
next week," and to George, privately, "I have much to 
do to-day, are you willing to help your father in the field?" 
and he cheerfully says, yes, sir, and all work through the 
day, John for money, James for the pleasure of hunting, 



• INDUSTRY PERSEVERANCE. 131 

Jlenry for the promised pleasure of a visit, and George. 
because he loves Ids father. Which works from the best 
motive, and which deserves the most credit? 

2. Pupils sometimes study very diligently with the sin- 
gle purpose of being first in their class. Is there any 
other motive which should incite a scholar to study? Is 
there any higher motive? 

& Children are sometimes very attentive to the com- 
mands and wishes of their parents, and very diligent in 
assisting them for a little time, for the reason that they 
intend to ask the privilege of going to a pleasure excur- 
sion, or of visiting an afternoon with some friends. What 
other motive sometimes prompts children to fee just as 
faithful and just as obedient to parents? What higher 
motive % 

\. Persons sometimes refrain from angry feelings and 
unkind words, lest they should offend the company pres- 
ent, or lose, thereby, some favorite enjoyment. What 
other motive should cause one to control angry feelings 
and refrain from unkind words? What higher motive? 



LESSON XVIII. 



LABOR CONQUERS ALL THINGS. 



NARRATIVE. 

The Panorama Boy. — Some years ago, a boy^was sit- 
ting with folded hands, in a tiny skiff, on the bosom of 



132 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

the mighty Mississippi. The setting sun was shining on 
the water, and on the beautiful banks of the river, rich 
with different colored foliage. So full was the mind of 
the boy with wonder and delight that he let the boat glide 
on unheeded, while he still sat gazing on the banks of the 
river. He had heard that America was richer in beauti- 
ful scenery than any other country in the world, and as 
he glided on looking around him he believed the saying, 
and then came into his mind the desire and resolve to be- 
come an artist, that he might paint the magnificent scenes 
of his native land. 

This boy's name was Banvard, and the resolution he 
made to paint the largest picture in the world was never 
given up by him till it was accomplished. When we 
think for a moment of a fatherless, moneyless lad, paint- 
ing a picture covering three miles of surface, and repre- 
senting a range of scenery three thousand miles in extent, 
well may we be ashamed in giving up anything worth 
pursuing merely because it costs us a little trouble. One 
might also think that young Banvard had taken for his 
motto the words which I saw in a book lately : — 

" Tliink well before you pursue it ; 
But when you begin, go through it." 

When his father died, John was left a poor, friendless 
lad, and obtained employment with a druggist; but so 
fond was he of sketching the likenesses of those about 
him on the walls with chalk or coal, that his master told 
him he made better likenesses than pills; so poor John 
lost his situation. He then tried other plans, and met 
with many disappointments; but at last he succeeded in 
obtaining as much money as he thought would enable him 
to paint his great picture. 

He had to go through great danger and trouble before 
he could take all his sketches, spread over a distance of 



INDUSTRY PERSEVERANCE. 133 

thive thousand miles. Having bought a small skiff, he 
set off alone on his perilous adventure. He traveled 
thousands of miles, crossing the Mississippi backwards 
and forwards to secure the best points for making his 
sketches. All day long he went on sketching, and when 
the sun was about to set he either shot wild fowl on the 
river, or hauling his little boat ashore, went into the woods 
with his rifle to shoot game. After cooking and eating 
his supper, he turned his boat over on the ground, and 
crept under it. rolling himself up in his blanket to sleep 
for the night, safe from the falling dews and prowling an- 
imals. Sometimes for weeks together he never spoke to 
a human being. In this maimer he went on sketching for 
more than four hundred days, before the necessary draw- 
ings were finished, and then he set to work in earnest to 
paint his picture. 

They were only sketches that he made in his wander- 
ings. After these were completed he had to buy colors 
and canvass, and to erect a large wooden building where 
he might paint his picture without interruption. 

I have now told you about the Panorama ; when it was 
finished it covered three miles of canvass, and represent- 
ed a range of scenery three thousand miles in extent, and 
that all this magnificent work was executed b}^ a poor, 
fatherless, moneyless lad, ought to make us ashamed of 
giving up any undertaking worth pursuing, merely because 
it would cost us some trouble. 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. Which would probably feel the happier, John Ban- 
vard alone, busily at work, in the wilderness, or the boy 
surrounded with friends and every luxury, but with noth- 
ing to do? 

1G 



134 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

2. Does a person feel more, or less happy who has a 
great and good object before him to accomplish, than the 
person who has no plan before him, and no labor to do? 

o. Which is better, to try to do something very useful 
and yet very difficult, and fail in our object, or not to at- 
tempt to do anything at all \ 

4. Which affords us the greater pleasure, to do what 
is very difficult to be done, or to do what is very easy to 
be done? 

5. Which affords us the greater pleasure, to do what 
is very easy to be done, if it is useful, or to do nothing at 
all? 

6. Some persons seem to suppose that it is very de- 
grading to do any thing useful. What is your opinion 
of this? 

7. Some persons think that some useful employments 
are honorable, and that other employments, equally use- 
ful, are very degrading. What do you think of this? 

8. If a man does his duty well, which is the more hon- 
orable employment, to plough in the fields, or to weigh 
out sugar and tea? 

9. Which is the more honorable employment, to write 
in an office, or to lay brick or stone in the erection of 
buildings? 



NARRATIVE. 



What a Hod-Man can Do. — Many persons turn up 
their noses at what they call ''dirty work,"* as though all 



INDUSTRY PERSEVERANCE. 135 

honest labor was not cleaner than many kid-gloved ways 
of swindling one's self through the world. Rather than 
owe our living to the latter, we would infinitely prefer 
to shake carpets or sweep chimneys at fifty cents a day. 
A day or two since we learned an instructive bit of his- 
tory touching a doer of "dirty work" — a hod-man. No 
matter where he was born; he was none the worse for 
being a Turkman or an Irishman. 

He went to New York about ten years ago, young, 
healthy and honest. He could get no employment but 
hod-carrying, and he carried so well as to earn at once 
his dollar a day. He procured good, but cheap, board 
and lodgings ; spent none of his earnings in groceries or 
low places; attended church on the Sabbath; educated 
himself evenings, laid up money, and at the end of five 
years bought a lot in the city, and built a pretty cottage. 
In one year more he found a good wife, and used the cot- 
tage he had before rented out. For this six years he had 
steadily carried the hod. 

He was a noted worker, an acknowledged scholar, and 
a noble pattern of a man. On the opening of the eighth 
year, his talents and integrity were called to a more prof- 
itable account. He embarked as a partner in a profes- 
sional business, already well established. This day he is 
worth at least $100,000; he has a lovely wife, and two 
beautiful children ; a home that is the center of a brilliant 
social and intellectual circle, and he is one of the happiest 
and most honored of men, so far as he is known. So 
much has come of a hod-man. 



10. Is carrying mortar to build a building a useful em- 
ployment? Is it an honest employment'? Why need 
any man be ashamed to carry mortar to build a building? 



136 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

11. Among pupils in school, there are some that learn 
much, and many that learn little. What makes the dif- 
ference, where the advantages seem nearly equal? 



NARRATIVE. 

A Great American Scholar. — Some seventy or more 
years ago, there lived in Salem, Massachusetts, a poor 
boy, who had determined to get an education. He was 
confined in a shop through the day, and had but few ad- 
vantages and little time for carrying out his design. He 
was not discouraged, however, but persevered like a hero, 
and every month witnessed his progress toward the object 
of his ambition. That boy was afterwards known 
throughout the civilized world as Dr. Bowditch, one of 
the most learned and famous scientific men our country 
has ever produced. But all that Bowditch knew, he 
learned ; and all that he learned, he acquired by diligent 
and persevering application. You can form some idea 
of his indomitable perseverance, from a little incident 
that is related of him. While he was a boy, a valuable 
private library, which had been captured at sea, arrived 
in Salem. These books were a rare prize for those days, 
and young Bowditch borrowed a number of them from 
the person who had charge of them. The volumes were 
retained longer than was necessary for a simple perusal, 
and it was afterwards ascertained that the young student 
was so anxious to possess them, that he actually copied 
twenty ponderous folio and quarto volumes of scientific 
works, and thus made them his own? These volumes, 
which at that time he dare not think of purchasing, were 
of great service to him in after years; and his children 
have carefully preserved them, as precious memorials of 
the perseverance of their father, 



INDUSTRY PERSEVERANCE. 1 37 

12. Did Dr. Bowditch labor any harder than most 
students are willing to labor? Did he know anything 
that he did not labor to acquire I 

13. Many things seem quite impossible to some per- 
sons, and (Uiite possible to others. Can yon give any 
reason for this difference ] 



NARRATIVE. 

Few things Impossible. — "It is impossibJe," said some 
when Peter the Great determined to set out on a voyage 
of discovery, through the cold, northern regions of Sibe- 
ria, and over immense desserts; but Peter was not to be 
discouraged, and the thing was done. 

•■It is impossible," said many, when they heard of a 
scheme of the good Oberlin's. To benefit his people, he 
had determined to open a communication with the high 
road to Strasbourg, so that the productions of de la Roche. 
(his own village) might find a market. Rocks were to 
be blasted and conveyed to the banks of the river Brnche. 
in sufficient quantity to build a wall for a road along its 
banks, a mile and a half, and a bridge across it. lie 
reasoned with his people, but they still thought it was im- 
possible. But he seized a pick-axe, put it across his 
shoulder, proceeded to the spot, and went to work: and 
the peasants soon followed him with their tools. The 
road and bridge were at length built, and to this day, the 
bridge bears the name of the "Bridge of Charity." 

"It is impossible,'" said some, as they looked at the 
impenetrable forests which covered the rugged flags and 
deep gorges of Mount Pilatus, in Switzerland, and heark- 
ened to the daring plan of a man named Rupp, to convey 



138 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

the pines from the top of the mountain to the lake of Lu- 
cerne, a distance of nearly nine miles. Without being 
discouraged by their exclamations, he formed a slide or 
trough, of 24.000 pine trees, six feet broad, and from 
three to six feet deep; and this slide, which was comple- 
ted in 1812. was kept moist. Its length was 44.000 Eng- 
lish feet. 

It had to be conducted over rocks or along their sides, 
or under ground, or over deep gorges, where it was sus- 
tained by scaffolds; and yet skill and perseverance over- 
came every obstacle, and the thing was done. The trees 
rolled down from the mountain into the lake with won- 
derful rapidity. The larger pines, which were 100 feet 
long, ran through the space of eight miles and a third in 
about six minutes. 

A gentleman who saw this great work, says, "that 
such was the speed with which a tree of the largest size 
passed any given point, that he could only strike it once 
with a stick as it rushed by, however cpiickly he attempt- 
ed to repeat the blows. 

Say not hastily, then, "it is impossible." It may be so 
to do a thing in an hour, a day, or a week. But resolve, 
and then act; and 'persevere in your work. "Time and 
patience," says a Spanish author, "make the mulberry 
leaf into satin." 



LESSON XIX. 



BE HONEST IN "LITTLE THINGS, 1 ' ITEtGIIT IN ALL 
THINGS. 



NARRATIVE. 

Temptatiqs not Resisted. — The following is the ease 
of a boy who yielded to temptation, and will show the 
dreadful eonsecjuences which followed. 

The boy alluded to was the son of pious parents in the 
country; he had received much faithful instruction, and 
doubtless had been the subject of many prayers. His 
appearance was such as to excite affection and confidence, 
and his preparedness for business was ample. With 
these advantages he was placed in the store of a mer- 
chant of the best character in Boston. His master found 
him faithful and industrious; placed great confidence in 
him; committed much property to his care; and was 
often congratulated on having so good a boy, who bid 
fair to make i: a first-rate man of business." 

But, alas ! it was not many months before this fair pros- 
pect was overclouded. The merchant heard that his fa- 
vorite boy was seen at a Theatre! Knowing he had no 
money to pay for this wicked amusement, he doubted the 
report; but being assured of its correctness, he took him 
aside, and with much feeling told him what he had heard, 
and inquired if it was possible for him to be seen in such 
a place? Finding he was detected, the boy confessed the 
whole matter; from which it appeared, that at first he 



140 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

w as persuaded to attend an Evening Book Auction. 
There he found a crowd of young men — and the auction- 
eer was vociferous in praise of liis ik excellent books with 
splendid bindings, selling for less than the cost of print- 
ing." One book was offered which the bov had a great 
desire to read — but he had no money to pay for it. 
More of the same books were to be sold on the next eve- 
ning. The thought passed through his mind — "Cant 1 
borrow money enough to pay for this book, and after 1 
have read it, sell it again, and pay what I have borrowed?" 
This thought appeared plausible and harmless — but it was 
the cause of his ruin. He borrowed the money from his 
masters drawer, without asking for it — and having once 
violated his conscience, he could no longer resist the temp- 
tation to take money, again and again, in the some way. 
— and having money in his possession, the desire to spend 
it all in sinful gratifications, was too strong to be resisted, 
and he was easily led (by his jovial "friends" which his 
money procured,) to the Theatre, that broad road to ruin, 
that slaughter-house of the morals of many of our youth! 

His parents were informed of his conduct. It almost 
broke their hearts. He promised them that he would 
reform — but he felt degraded, his conscience tormented 
him, and it was not long before he absconded! After 
which, search being made, goods to the amount of several 
hundred dollars were found in his chamber, which he had 
purchased with money stolen from his master. 

Thus were the fair prospects of a once amiable youth 
destroyed — his character gone — his father's house forsa- 
ken — and he wandering like a vagabond, exposed to the 
destructive allurements of vice, without a good conscience 
to refrain him, or a friend to advise him. 

This is but one instance among many that occur yearly 
in Boston, of young men from the country who are ruined 



HONESTY INTEGRITY. 141 

by the many temptations which beset them here. These 
temptations are so various in their form, that it is difficult 
to describe them ; but they meet an unsuspecting youth 
almost every hour — and in order to resist them and walk 
in the path of rectitude, he should firmly resolve to keep 
"a conscience void of offence towards God and man." 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. Do persons usually first steal very trifling, or very 
valuable articles? 

'2. How did the boy in the preceding narrative, com- 
mence his course of crime? 

3. If, in passing a man's orchard, you should see plenty 
of fruit that was rotting upon the trees and ground, would 
it be right to take some of it to eat without asking the 
owner h 

4. But if you were some acquainted with the owner, and 
felt sure he would give his consent, if you were to ask 
him. would it be right to take some without asking for it? 

5. Children in passing along the road or street, some- 
times reach over or through the fence and gather fruit. 
Is this right? 

6. Somtimes the limbs of fruit trees hang over the 
street, and boys say "this fruit will fall into the road 
or street when it is ripe, we may as well take it before it 
tails." Is this right? 



NARRATIVE. 

Honesty in Little Things. — "Matilda," said little 



14*2 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

Thomas, "Do you know that one of the boughs of Mr. 
C.'s apple tree hangs over our garden wall, and when the 
fruit gets ripe, and the high winds blow, we shall have 
some of the apples." "Indeed you will not" replied his 
sister, "for they are not ours, and you must be honest, even 
in little things.''' 

"Oh then," said Thomas, his eyes brightening while he 
expressed his thoughts, "we will throw them over the 
wall again, and he will be sure to find them." Admira- 
ble intention! all through life may principles of true rec- 
titude direct the little boy. My dear readers, let me im- 
press upon your minds the absolute need of the most 
scnqntlous honesty on all occasions. You cannot tell how 
pilfering an apple, or stealing a pear, or a book, may 
stamp your character for life. Should your friends ever 
see any thing like duplicity in your conduct, they could 
not help being suspicious, which would make you feel 
very uncomfortable; therefore, say indignantly to the 
tempter, when he would incline you to that which is 
wrong; "how can I do this great wickedness and sin 
against God?" and let the holy Psalmist's prayer be con- 
tinually your prayer, both morning and evening too; "let 
integrity and uprightness preserve me:" and ever re- 
member the two following lines, which, though old, are 
valuable : 

; ' It is a sin to steal a pin, 

And 'tis much more a orreater thingf." 



8. If apples are very plenty and very cheap, and wag 
on loads are standing in the street for sale, how many ap. 
pies may a boy take from a wagon without leave, and not 
steal? 

8. In passing around among mechanics, boys sometimes 



HONESTY INTEGRITY. 143 

gather up a few nails. How many small /calls might a 
hoy, in this way, put in his pocket without stealing? 

9. Along the streets and wharves, casks of sugar are 
often broken open by accident or otherwise, and boys 
"just taste'"' of a little of the sugar. How many times 
might a boy "just taste," or how much sugar might he 
( j at. without making a case of stealing? 

10. If you wanted some fruit or some sugar to eat and 
did not think it right to steal yourself how would it do 
for you to let some other boys steal the fruit, and then 
you eat it with them? 

11. If you know that the fruit, or the, food, or the 
presents of any kind placed before you have been stolen. 
what ought you to do? 

1*2. Persons sometimes secretly borrow the money or 
articles intrusted to their care, thinking they will make all 
right at some convenient time. What is wrong in this? 



NARRATIVE. 

Inordinate love of Dress. — 1 once knew a youth, the 
child of an officer in the navy, who had served his coun- 
try with distinction, but whose premature death rendered 
his widow thankful to receive an official appointment for 
her delicate boy in a Government office. His income 
from the office was given faithfully to his mother : and it 
was a pleasure and a pride to him to gladden her heart 
by the thought that he was helping her. She had other 
children, but they were younger than he. and were two 
little girls, just rising one above another from the cradle 
to womanhood. Her scanty pension and his salary made 



144 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

every one happy. But over this youth came a love of 
dress. He had not strength of mind to see how much 
more truly beautiful a pure mind is, than a finely-deco- 
rated exterior. He took pleasure in helping his mother 
and sisters, but did not take pleasure in thinking that to 
do this kindness to them, he must be contented for a time, 
to dress a little worse than his fellow clerks ; his clothes 
might appear a little worn, but they were like the spot 
on the dress of a soldier, arising from the discharge of 
duty ; they were no marks of undue carelessness : neces- 
sity had wrought them; and while they indicated neces- 
sity they marked also the path of honor; and without such 
spots duty must have been neglected. But this youth 
did not think of such considerations as these. He felt 
ashamed of his threadbare, but clean coat. The smart, 
new sinning dress of other clerks, mortified him. They 
had no mother to assist, nor sisters dependent upon them ; 
and probably some among them would have gladly come 
in a shabby coat, rather than lessen the necessaries of 

dear relatives at home. Robert truly loved his 

mother and sisters, and did not wish to lessen their in- 
come, but he wanted to appear finer. In an evil hour he 
ordered a suit of clothes from a fashionable tailor. His 
situation and connections procured him a short credit. — 

But tradesmen must be paid, and Robert was again 

and again importuned to defray his debt. To relieve 
himself of his creditor, he stole a letter containing a £10 
note. His tailor was paid, but the injured party knew 
the number of the note. It •was traced to the tailor, by 
him to Robert,, with the means and opportunity of steal- 
ing it, and in a few clays the child (for lie was sixteen) 
was transported. Before he went away, it was very af- 
fecting to see his truly respectable mother come to visit 
him. "Oh, Robert! how could you do this/" was her 



J [ON EST Y IH TEGRITY. 145 

plaintive expostulation. The distress she suffered, and 

the straitened way in which she and his sisters lived 
tor many months, to pay the expenses of his defence. 
were never known to him. His mother entertained the 
liveliest hopes that he might escape by some legal defect; 
but all her hopes were blighted, and she lost her son prob- 
ably forever. His birth-day passed in Newgate. On 
this occasion a Bible was sent him, and markers wrought 
in beads by his sisters. One was, "Robert, we still re- 
member you:" another, by his youngest sister, was, "Still 
we love yon."' It was quite pitiable to see how the youth's 
tears flowed when lie read these signs of love and sorrow 
in the home he had rendered so desolate. He was pro- 
foundly humbled and sincerely penitent; but his offence 
could not be pardoned. Public good demanded its en- 
forcement; and his was another example of the intense 
foil v of a love of. dress. 



VARIED APPLICATION OF EIGHT KRINCIPLE^v 



OUESriONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. If you were to find money in the street or elsewhere, 
what ought you to do with it? 

:2. If you were to find lost articles of any kind, what 
ought you to do? Would it be right to keep them and 
say nothing? 

3b Not long since a little girl received a ten dollar gold 

piece at the Post Office in Sandusky, in the evening, by 

mistake, for a cent. After going home the mistake was 

seen. Was this money hers? How mvxh of it belonged 

17 



146 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

to her? To whom did the rest belong? She returned 
the gold piece the next morning, the Post Master not 
having yet discovered the error. Would you have done 

so? 

4. A poor man once purchased a loaf of bread of a ba- 
ker for the usual price of a loaf. When, away from the 
shop, he began to break and eat it with his son, he found 
several dollars in value of gold coin in the middle of it. 
Was this money his? Did he buy it? What would be 
right to do with the money in such a case? 

5. At the market, we sometimes find very nice berries, 
or other fruits, placed carefully on the top of the meas- 
ure, while, in the middle, the fruit is nearly worthless. 
How ought this to be? 

6. Children sometimes break crockery or other furni- 
ture, and place it carefully away without saying anything 
to any one. What ought you to do if you injure any ar- 
ticle of furniture? 

7. Boys sometimes ride half a mile on the back steps 
of an omnibus without being seen. What is there wrong 
in this? 

8. Suppose you should borrow a boy's knife and should 
lose it, and should pay him twenty-five cents to make his 
loss good. Sometime afterwards, the boy finds his knife 
himself, in as good order as when he lent it to you. — 
What ought to be done in such a case? 

i). Suppose the fee for admittance to a show or con- 
cert, to be ten cents, and that, by standing near the door, 
you can easily pass in without being noticed and without 
paying anything. Would this be right? 



ASSOCIATES. 147 

10. It" a boy should offer to sell you a pencil case, he 
supposing it to be brass, for twenty-five cents, and you 
at once, knew it was gold and worth one dollar and a half 
or two dollars, would it be right to take it for twenty-five 
cents, without informing the boy of its real value? 

11. If you should buy a pound of candy at the shop, 
and pay for it. and should, when you reached home, 
find there were two pounds instead of one, what ought 
you to do? 



LESSON XX. 



A PEKSON IS KNOWN BY THE COMPANY HE KEEPS. 



NARRATIVE. 

The Max that was Haunted by his Shadow. — The 
chief of police in New York city, (Mr. Mat-sell,) has 
adopted a new and singular plan, both as a preventive and 
a remedy for crime. He has in his employ a number of 
trust-worthy men, who make themselves acquainted with 
every rogue in the country. Their province is to watch 
the arrival of all steamboats, railroad cars, and other 
public conveyances, and follow every known rogue and 
suspicious character, like his very shadow, wherever he 
goes. Not a moment, night or day, while in that city, 
can a person escape from these shadows (policemen) when 
once they are attached. 

A recent case of actual occurrence will illustrate this 



|.4*S ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

system. A well-known burglar, who had reformed, -but 
whose reformation had not become public, arrived in New 
York from a neighboring city, in company with an intel- 
ligent lawyer, as his counsel, for the settlement of some 
old affairs. As a man is known by the company he keeps, 
the lawyer was immediately suspected and. shadowed!— 
He went into a barber's shop to be shaved, and the shad- 
ow (policeman) set down by his side. He went to see a 
friend, the shadow waited outside. Next, lie went to a 
restaurant for dinner, the shadow was at the table oppo- 
site. Now lie walked about town, the shadow was ever 
behind him. He went to the theatre, the shadow was in 
the next seat. He stepped into a reading-room to read 
the news, and the shadow was reading at his elbow. He 
registered his name at the hotel — the shadow was looking 
over Iris shoulder. He went to bed — the shadow inquir- 
ed the number of his room. In this way. says the cor- 
respondent of the Philadelphia Inquirer, he was dogged 
for three days, when he called upon the chief of police in 
reference to the business of his client, when lo! and be- 
hold, the shadow was there too ! Of course, as soon as 
he made himself known as an attorney from a neighbor- 
ing city, the shadow was withdrawn. And most fortu- 
nate was he in going to the office as he did, for Mr. Mat- 
sell had already issued orders for his arrest on suspicion. 
Those who believe the Bible, know that a much closer 
inspection than this is had over every human being, eve- 
ry moment, and in every place, and without the least in- 
termission. Why are we so apt to forget it and to think 
that we are alone? 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. If a well appearing person should come to the town 



ASSOCIATE!-. 149 

or city iii which you reside, in company with a~well-known 
thief would yon suspect the stranger was a rogue ? 

% Why was the lawyer, in the preceding narrative, 
suspected of being a thief? 

3. Does it make any difference to you whom you 
choose for your companions, if you try to do right your- 
self? What difference? 

4 If one bad boy were to associate with two good ones, 
would the bad boy be likely to become good, or the good 
boys bad? 

5, Do persons usually choose for their companions 
those that are very much like themselves, or those that 
are very much unlike themselves'? 

0. If you were to see five boys very intimate together, 
and all alike well-dressed and w r ell appearing, and you 
should know, positively, that two of them would swear, 
or lie, or steal, what would you infer respecting the oth- 
er three? 

7. If you find that any of your companions are just 
beginning to use profane or obscene language, what would 
you think it your duty, at once, to do? 

8. But if they grow ivorse instead of better, after you 
have spoken to them of their wrong acts, what ought you 
to do? 

9. If you were with ten boys who were strongly tempt- 
ed to steal fruit, but had not, either of them, the moral 
courage to refuse, and say that it was wrong, would it be 
easy for you to stand alone and oppose all the rest? 

10. Would it not be easier for you to exercise courage 



150 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

to do right, if eight of the boys were anxious to do right 
too? 

11. If all of your associates should unite in encourag- 
iug you in everything that is right and honorable, what 
effect would this have upon you? 



NARRATIVE. 

Bad Counsels. — At an early age I had to rue the bad 
counsel and evil influence of intermeddlers, as you shall 
hear. When a schoolboy, my master on one occasion, 
treated me with unmerited severity, and my youthful 
blood boiled in my veins at what appeared to me to be 
his injustice and cruelty; but, exasperated as I was, time 
would, no doubt, have soothed, if not healed my wounded 
spirit, had it not been for the intermeddlers around mo. 
These so highly colored the conduct of my master, and 
so highly complimented me for my noble, independent 
spirit, that I was compelled to keep up my character with 
them, by adopting the worst course I could take — that of 
running away from school. The bitter annoyances to 
which this act of rebellion subjected me, are even now 
fresh in my memory. 



12. How long will the effects of early, bad associates, 
be likely to last? 

Yd. Which would be better, to submit to reproof that 
might seem a little too severe, or lose, for life, the advan- 
tages of a good education? 

14. Have you ever known persons who seemed very 
amiable and virtuous, to be ruined by bad associates? 



ASSOCIATES. 151 



NARRATIVE. 



The downward Road — a true Narrative. — There 
was a young man with whom I was well acquainted, the 
youngest of five brothers. His father had fallen from a 
high standing in society, and had become a degraded 
creature through intemperance. He had abused his wife 
and children, who were then promising and amiable, until 
worn out with his treatment, his wife sought an asylum 
from his cruelties in the home of a kind-hearted brother. 
Her sons were all provided with respectable homes to 
acquire various mechanic arts, except the youngest, who 
remained with his mother to comfort her lonely and des- 
olate heart, and to enjoy the opportunity of schooling. 
He was very much beloved in school for his kind and 
gentle behaviour and obliging disposition. 

Years passed away. His brothers, one after another 
had all fallen into the habits of their shameless and un- 
happy father, and the mother's heart was almost crushed 
by these repeated and heavy trials. Still she looked to 
her youngest as the prop upon which her poor heart, 
throbbing with painful emotions, might lean, and find 
peace and comfort once more. 

He went into a store as a clerk. He was faithful, hon- 
est and industrious, and enjoyed the confidence of his em- 
ployer, and the respect and good wishes of all his friends 
for many years. It was often said of him, to the grati- 
fication of those who were watching his progress, that 
t; he was thought to be one of the best and most faithful 
clerks in the city where he lived." 

But he fell into the company of young men who drink 
-moderately" as people say, and here he acquired that 
love of strong drink which proved at last his ruin. It 
was long concealed from all his friends, except those who 



152 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

shared his infamy, and it came at last upon them like the 
thunderbolt. He was discharged by his employer, and 
came home, not to be a stay and support to his broken- 
hearted mother, but to inflict a deeper wound upon her 
already bleeding heart. He. who might have been a man 
of unbounded influence, and of great moral worth, was. 
sunk so low that he was shunned by all who valued their 
reputation, and was soon known to labor simply for what 
he could drink. 

After a few years, one of his old friends was established 
in the mercantile business in Oswego, now a flourishing 
city on Lake Ontario. One pleasant afternoon, in spring, 
when the business of the day was nearly over, there was 
an unusual noise in the street. He stepped to the door 
to ascertain the cause, and saw a troop of boys following, 
teasing and diverting themselves with a man so intoxica- 
ted, that he soon fell down, and they were abusing him at 
such a rate that he went out and dispersed the boys, aiuL 
to his great astonishment, found that the man was indeed 
no other than he whom he had known in earlier days as 
the reputable and promising clerk ! He treated him with 
great kindness, but nothing had any effect to reclaim him. 
Those who never taste intoxicating drinks never become 
drunkards. All others ma v. 



VARIED APPLICATION OF RIGHT PRINCIPLES. 



QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. May we select our intimate companions, or must we 
always have just such as happen to be with us? 

'<?. What, advantages may we expect to gain by asso- 



SELF-DENIAL. 153 

dating with those who are better scholars than ourselves 1 ? 

8. What advantages may we expect to gain by asso- 
ciating with those who have more moral courage than our- 
selves? — with those who are more attentive to neatness 
than we are: — with those who are more inditstriotis and 
persevering? 

4. If you were very anxious to learn music, how would 
you be benefitted by having for your intimate associates 
those who were highly accomplished in music? 

•"). If you could never spend an hour with those who 
were more accomplished in their manners, than yourself, 
would it be just as easy for you to always practice habits 
of politeness and refinement? 

0. Some persons adopt, for their maxim, the follow- 
ing — "Choose cmoD companions or choose none at all." 
fs rlil- ;i safe and prudent maxim for all? 



LESSON XXI 



LEARN TO DENY YOUBSELF. 



NARRATIVE. 



Disinterested Benevolence. — In the hard frost of the 
year 1740. the benevolent Duke of Montague went out 
one morning in disguise, as was his favorite practice, in 
order to distribute his bounty to his suffering fellow crea- 



154 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

iures. He descended into one of those subterraneous 

dwellings of which there arc many in London, and ac- 
costing an old woman, enquired, " How she lived in these 
hard times, and if she wanted charity.'' "No," she re- 
plied, "she thanked God she was not in want; but if be 
had anything to bestow, there was a poor creature in the 
next room almost starving."' The duke visited this poor 
object, made her a donation, and then inquired of the old 
woman, "If any more of her neighbors were in want 1 ?" 
She said, "Her left hand neighbor was very poor, and 
very honest.'* "Surely," replied the duke, "you are very 
generous, and disinterested ; pray, if it is no offence, let 
me know your own circumstances.*' "I owe nothing.'* 
said the good woman, "and am worth thirty shillings." 
"Well, I suppose a little addition would be acceptable." 
"Yes, certainly, but I think it wrong to take what others 
want so much more than I do." The duke, upon this, 
took out five guineas, and desiring her acceptance of them, 
left the poor woman quite overcome by this mark of his 
generosity, and expressing, in the warmest language, her 
gratitude, for his kindness. 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. Suppose that a boy, poor and very hungry, should 
have some nice fruit given to him, and he should refuse 
to eat it himself because he wanted to give it to some one 
that he loved, what virtue would he practice? 

2. If a girl, very anxious to attend a lecture or concert, 
should voluntarily stay at home for the sake of allowing 
her sister or mother to go. what virtue would she prac- 
tice? 



SELF-DENIAL. 155 

3. Do you think it easy for any one to practice self- 
denial? 

4. In the narrative, just given, what do yon discover 
to approve in the conduct of the poor woman, who direc- 
ted the duke to her still poorer neighbors'? 

.'). This poor woman thought it wrong to accept aid. 
when others around her were more needy than herself: 
do you agree with her. that it would have been wrong- 
under the circumstances? 

(>. If she had been so much occupied with her own 
concerns, that she had known nothing of the distress of 
her neighbors, would it have been right to have accepted 
aid from the duke? 

7. But is it often, if ever, right for us to be so much 
occupied with our own interests and trials, that we may 
not know anything of the sufferings around us? 

5. If it was wrong m this poor woman to receive a 
little aid from the duke, when she well knew that others 
around her were much more needy than herself, what 
would you say of the conduct of those who have an abun- 
dance of enjoyments, and yet think only of securing more 
for themselves, and none for others that are very much in 
need? 

{>. Who are usually the more ready to deny them- 
selves, those that possess many, or those that possess very 
few enjoyments? 

NARRATIVE. 

The Golden Rule. — " Whatsoever ye would that men 
should do unto you. do ye even so to them." — A most 



156 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

touching illustration of this Scripture precept, was related 
to us a few days since. A poor widow, with a family of 
children to support, earned a scanty living by selling, 
near one of our market houses, on a table, various little 
fancy articles. Some friends advised her to rent a small 
store that was vacant, close by, and open in that with a 
larger assortment. After hesitating long, with much 
tear and trembling, she at last rented the store, and by 
the aid of a few kind friends, got a neat little stock of 
goods. Every market day she set out her table as be- 
fore, and with what she sold, both in this way and in her 
shop, she soon began to do very well, and to be" tolerably 
easy in mind. Just at this period in her affairs, another 
poor widow woman, struggling for a support for her 
children, set out a table on the opposite come]', to get the 
custom of the market people. As soon as the widow wh< > 
had the store as well as the table saw this, she immedi- 
ately took in her table, and to a friend who asked her the 
reason, said. "I am doing very well with my store, and 
she has but a table; I will not divide the custom, for I 
know how hard it is to support a family of children with 
only the sales of a table." 

JO. What is there to approve in the conduct ot*the> 
widow who had the store and the market table- 1 ? 

11. Are there opportunities for every one to deny 
themselves some enjoyments for the sake of making oth- 
ers happy, if they please to do so? 

12. If persons are not willing to deny themselves in 
" little things.'' what would you expect of them in great- 
er things? 

13. At meals, it is not always convenient i'^v all tin- 



SELF-DENIAL. 157 

members of the family to have a seat at the first table. 
What is to be done when this happens '? 

14. It is not always convenient for all of the persons 
in the family to attend a lecture or concert on the same 
evening. What is to be done in such a case? 

15. All the persons in a carriage can not always have 
an equally good seat. Who may choose the best? 

16. It is sometimes necessary for some one to wait on 
a sick mother, or brother, or sister. Whose duty is it 
to do this? 

17. All of the children of a family cannot always at- 
tend school regularly, when each may feel very anxious 
to do so. If this is left for the children themselves to 
arrange, how shall it be decided who shall attend? 



NARRATIVE. 



The School-Ticket. — Sometimes kindness is shown by 
giving up to others what seems to be our right, as well 
as by giving away what they want more than we do. — 
There was once a large school for young ladies in St. Pe- 
tersburg, the capital of Russia, where many were sent 
upon paying a certain sum for their board; others were 
supported by the royal family, without any charge to 
their own friends. These were admitted by tickets, one 
of which was received by the daughter of an officer, who 
was about ten years old. She had a sister of nearly the 
same age, and they wept together at the prospect of a 
separation, for they knew that their parents were unable 
to pay for either of them, as they belonged to a very 
large family. But a young lady, not much older than 
18 



158 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSON*. 

themselves, to whom the next ticket was sent, being aware 
of their anxiety, begged to give up her own privileges in 
their favor, saying that she knew her father was both able 
and willing to provide for her expenses. No objection 
was made to this arrangement, but the empress of Russia 
herself insisted upon paying for this generous child. 



18. Which would give you the greater pleasure, to at- 
tend a pleasant school for a term, or stay at home for the 
sake of allowing a brother or sister to attend? 

19. Some persons are willing to suffer pain and sor- 
row, if they may, thereby, prevent others from suffering 
the same. Have you ever known any such persons ? 



NARRATIVE. 

Captain, afterwards Sir David Baird, having been ta- 
ken prisoner by Hyder Ally, an East-Indian chief, was 
with other British officers, thrown into prison. The 
w r ounds which he had received were not merely unhealed, 
but in a state which threatened mortification, and his 
general health was rapidly declining. When he and his 
companions had languished some time in confinement, 
one of Ally's officers appeared, bearing with him fetters 
weighing nine pounds each, which were intended for the 
unhappy prisoners. To resist was useless: they there- 
fore submitted. On the officer coming to the Captain, 
one of his companions sprang forward, and urged the 
cruelty of fettering limbs still festering with wounds, from 
one of which a ball had recently been extracted, and sta- 
ted that death was likely to follow such treatment. The 



SELF-DENIAL. 159 

reply was. "that as many fetters had been sent as there 
were prisoners, and that they must all be put on •" then 
said the noble advocate of his wounded friend, "put a 
double pair on me, so that Captain Baird may be spared 
wearing them.'* This moved the officer, a delay arose, 
the irons w^ere dispensed with, and the captive in the dun- 
geon of Seringapatam was spared to become its conquer- 
or, and. for a time, its master. 



YAK I EP APPLICATION OF EIGHT PRINCIPLES. 



QUESTIONS FOK SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

1. If you were traveling with two companions over 
the plains to California, where you could not get food, 
and you had only^ve biscuits to live on for eight days, 
while your companions had nothing to eat, what do you 
think you would do? 

2. If, in such a journey, you had a little medicine with 
you, and your companions had none, and one of them 
should be taken sick and need as much medicine as you 
had to cure him, and, knowing that you could not get any 
more if you were to be taken sick yourself, what do you 
think you would do? 

3. If we know that persons around us are suffering 
from poverty or sickness, what will be our duty ? 

4. If we know that others around us are suffering, or 
will suffer, from ignorance and neglect, what will be our 
duty? 

5. When you see a- person always ready to deny him- 



160 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

self, for the purpose of making others happy, ivhat other 
virtues, would you feel certain that such a person pos- 
sessed 1 ? 

6. Is it more, or less difficult to practice self-denial after 
we have practiced it many times? 

7. Which would you think would make the best chil- 
dren, and the noblest men and women, those who have 
very often practiced self-denial, or those who have never 
practiced it at all? 



LESSON XXII 



LIVE USEFULLY. 



NARRATIVE. 



The poor Tyrolese Boy. — A soldier's widow lived in 
a little hut near a mountain village. Her only child was 
a poor cripple. Hans was a kind-hearted boy. He loved 
his mother and would gladly have helped her bear the 
burdens of poverty, but that feebleness forbade it. He 
could not even join in the rude sports of the young moun- 
taineers. At the age of fifteen years, he felt keenly the 
fact that he was useless to his mother and to the world. 

It was at this period that Napoleon Bonaparte was ma- 
king his power felt thoroughout Europe. He had decreed 
that Tyrol should belong to Bavaria, and not to Austria, 
and sent a French and Bavarian army to accomplish his 
purpose. The Austin ans retreated. The Tyrolese ivsis- 



USEFULNESS. 161 

ted valiantly. Men, women and children of the moun- 
tain land were filled with zeal in defence of their homes. 
On one occasion 10,000 French and Bavarian troops were 
destroyed in a single mountain pass, by an immense ava- 
lanche of rocks and trees prepared and hurled upon them 
by an unseen foe. 

A secret arrangement existed among the Tyrolese, by 
which the approach of the enemy was to be communica- 
ted from village to village by signal fires, from one moun- 
tain height to another, and materials were laid ready to 
give instant alarm. 

The village where Haus and his mother lived was in 
the direct line of the route the French army would take 
and the people were full of anxiety and fear. All were 
preparing for the expected struggle. The widow and her 
crippled son alone seemed to have no part but to sit still 
and wait. "Ah, Hans," she said, one evening, " It is well 
for us now that you can be of little use; they would else- 
make a soldier of you." This struck a tender chord. — 
The tears rolled from his cheek. "Mother, I am useless," 
cried Hans in bitter grief. "Look round our village — all 
are busy, all ready to strive for home and father-land — I 
am useless." 

"My boy, my kind, dear son. you are not useless to 
me."' 

"Yes, to you; I cannot work for you, cannot support 
you in old age. Why was I made, mother?'* 

"Hush, Hans," said his mother; "these repining 
thoughts are wrong. You will live to find the truth of 
our old proverb : 

" God has his plan 
For every man." 

Little did Hans think that ere a few weeks had passed, 
this truth was to be verified in a remarkable manner. 



162 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

Easter holidays, the festive season of Switzerland, came. 
The people lost their fears of invasion in the sports of the 
season. All were busy in the merry-making — all but 
Hans. He stood alone on the porch of his mountain hut, 
overlooking the village. 

In the evening of Easter, after his usual evening prayer, 
in which he breathed the wish that the Father of mercies 
would, in his good time, afford him some opportunity of 
being useful to others, he fell into a deep sleep. 

He awoke in the night, as if from a dream, under the 
strong impression that the French and Bavarian army 
was approaching. He could not shake off this impression; 
but with the hope of being rid of it, he rose, hastily dress- 
ed himself, and strolled up the mountain path. The cool 
air did him good, and he continued his walk till he climbed 
to the signal pile. Hans walked round the pile; but 
where were the watchers'? They were nowhere to be 
seen, and perhaps they were busied with the festivities of 
the village. Near the pile was an old pine tree, and in 
its hollow stem the tinder was laid ready. Hans paused 
by the hollow tree, and as he listened, a singular sound 
caught his attention. He heard a slow and stealthy tread 
then the click of muskets ; and two soldiers crept along 
the cliff. Seeing no one, for Hans was hidden by the old 
tree, they gave the signal to some comrads in the distance. 

Hans saw instantly the plot and the danger. The se- 
cret of the signal pile had been revealed to the enemy: 
a party had been sent forward to destroy it; the army was 
marching to attack the village. With no thought of his 
own peril, and perhaps recalling the proverb his mother 
had quoted, he seized the tinder, struck the light, and 
flung the blazing turpentine brand into the pile. 

The two soldiers, whose backs were then turned to the 
pile, waiting the arrival of their comrades, were seized 



USEFULNESS. 163 

with fear; but they soon saw there were no foes in am- 
bush — none birfn single youth running clown the moun- 
tain path. They fired, and lodged a bullet in the boy's 
shoulder. Yet the signal-fire was blazing high, and the 
whole country would be roused. It was already aroused 
from mountain-top to mountain-top. The plan of the ad- 
vancing army was defeated, and a hasty escape followed. 

Hans, faint and bleeding, made his way to the village. 
The peopie, with their arms, were mustering thick and 
fast. All was consternation. The inquiry was every- 
where heard, "Who lighted the pile?" "It was I," said 
at last a faint, almost expiring voice. Poor crippled 
Hans tottered among them, saying, "The enemy — the 
French were there.'' He faltered, and sank upon the 
ground. "Take me to my mother." said he: "at last I 
have not been useless." 

They stooped to lift him. "What is tins'?" they cried; 
"he has been shot. It is true; Hans, the cripple, has 
saved us." They carried Hans to his mother, and laid 
him before her. As she bowed in anguish over his pale 
face, Hans opened his eyes and said, "It is not now, dear 
mother, you should weep for me ; I am happy now. Yes, 
mother, it is true, 

" God has his plan 
For every man. 

You see he had it for me, though we did not know what 
it was." 

Hans did not recover from his wound, but he lived long 
enough to know that he had been of use to his village and 
the country; he lived to see grateful mothers embrace 
his mother, to hear that she should be considered a sacred 
and honored bequest to the community which her son had 
preserved at the cost of his own life. 

Great emergencies like those which met Hans, cannot 



164 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

exist in the history of all. To all, however, the Tyro- 
lese motto may speak, and all will experience its truth. 
None need stand useless members of God's great family. 
There is work for every one to do, if he will but look 
out for it. So long as there is ignorance to instruct, want 
to relieve, sorrow to soothe, let there be no drones in the 
hive, no idlers in the great vineyard of the world. 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. Some persons labor very hard to become rich. 
Are all successful who try to be rich? 

2. Some persons devote almost a whole lifetime of 
labor to the study of inventions and improvements in 
machinery. Are such persons always successful'? 

3. Some persons try very hard to become distinguished 
scholars, or statesmen, or generals. Are such persons 
always successful'? 

4. But if any one feels very anxious to be useful in 
some way, and labors very diligently for this object, may 
any one be successful ? 

5. In the last narrative, which was the more useful to 
his country, the poor, cripple boy who lighted the fire on 
the mountain top, or a common, able-bodied soldier? 

0. It was a great satisfaction to this poor Tyrolese boy 
to think that he had been useful, even at the sacrifice of 
his life. Was his desire for usefulness too strong? How 
much less may we love to be useful? 

7. May any one learn to love to be useful ? In what 
manner? 



USEFULNESS. 1(35 

8. Should persons choose a useful occupation because 
they love to be useful, or will it answer just as well, to 
choose a very useful employment because we can make 
more money in such an employment? 



NARRATIVE. 

Noble Conduct. — The State House in Milledgeville, 
Geo., took fire in 1853, but was saved by the great and 
hazardous exertions of a colored man — a slave. Soon as 
the fire was over, his liberty was offered him, but he re- 
fused to accept it. Doubtless he loved liberty, but loved 
the pleasure of "doing good" without pay, still better. 
There are enough ready to do good, when they think they 
shall make something by it." 



9. In choosing an employment, some persons askjirst. 
how many advantages they can thereby secure to them- 
selves, and secondly, how useful they can, at the same time 
be to others; other persons ask first how useful they can 
be to those around them, and lastly how much they can. 
at the same time, do for themselves. Which course do 
you prefer ? 

10. Which would you think the more unfortunate per- 
son, the one who had lived forty years and secured an 
abundance of luxuries and enjoyments for himself, with- 
out thinking of the welfare of others, or the one who had 
lived a whole life of labor and privation, himself, that he 
might make others happy around him? 



t'66 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

NARRATIVE. 

A Useful Man. — John Pounds, the founder of Ragged 
Schools, was the son of a workman employed in the Roy- 
al Dock-yards at Portsmouth, Eng.. and was born in that 
town m 1766. At the age of fifteen, he met with an ac- 
cident which crippled him for life. A cobbler by trade. 
he spent the greater part of his benevolent career in a 
small workshop, measuring some six feet by eighteen, in 
St. Mary Street. Portsmouth, where he might be seen 
day after day. seated on his stool, mending shoes, and 
attending at the same time to the studies of a busy crowd 
of ragged children, clustering around him. In addition 
to mental instruction, he gave them industrial training. 
and taught them to cook their own victuals and mend 
their own shoes. He was unusually fond of all kinds of 
birds and domestic animals, and amused himself with rea r- 
iiig singing birds, jays and parrots, which he trained to 
live harmoniously with his cats and guinea pigs. Some- 
times he might be seen, seated in the midst of his school, 
with a canary-bird perched on one shoulder, and a cat on 
the other. But he was to poor to be able long to indulge 
in all his benevolent fancies. When his scholars became 
numerous, he gave up his cats and canary-birds, and devo- 
ted the latter part of his life exclusively to the more in- 
tellectual employment of taming and subduing the "wild 
Arabs of the city." How applicable to him the immor- 
tal lines of Coleridge: 

"He prayeth well, -who lovetii well 

All things both s;rcat and small — 
He prayeth best, who loveth best 

Both man, and bird, and beast: 
For the dear God, who loveth us, 

He made and lovetii all.*' 

The candidates for admission to John Pounds" school 
were always very numerous. But he invariably save 



USEFULNESS. 167 

preference to the worst as well as the poorest children — 
to the "little blackguards,"' as he called them. He used 
to follow them to the quay, and offer them the bribe of 
a roasted potato, if they would come to his school. Well 
was he repaid for his unwearied labors by the love and 
affection which these clildren bore to him. It is said that 
John Pounds' Ragged School had the following origin : 
In early life he adopted a young nephew of his own, 
whom he thought he could educate better with a compan- 
ion, than alone, and he accordingly enlisted in his service 
the son of a poor woman. Then another and another 
child was added, until at last he collected around him a 
large school of boys and girls. Poor as he was, he es- 
tablished his nephew comfortably in the world; and dur- 
ing the latter years of his life, he had no less than forty 
scholars. He died on the 1st of January, 1839, aged 72. 
There was much weeping and shedding of tears in Ports- 
mouth. The children had lost at once their father, and 
best friend, and most amusing playfellow — Portsmouth 
had lost one of her noblest ornaments — England one of 
her most illustrious patriots. We rejoice to think that 
many who never before heard of John Pounds, will, 
through Mr. Guthrie's "Second Plea," become acquainted 
with him. How beautiful is the following tribute to his 
memory : 

"Were we." says Mr. Guthrie, "to make a pilgrimage 
anywhere, as soon as to the lowly heath where the martyr 
reposes, we would direct out steps to the busy streets of 
Portsmouth, and turning aside from the proud array of 
England's floating bulwarks, we would seek out the hum- 
ble shop where John Pounds achieved his work of mercy 
and earned an imperishable fame. There is no poetry in 
his name, and none in his profession ; but there was more- 
than poetry — the highest, noblest piety — in his life. — - 



168 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

Every day within his shop he might be seen cobbling 
shoes, and surrounded by some score or two of ragged 
urchins, whom he was converting into useful mem- 
bers of the State. Honor to the memory of the patriot 
cobbler, beneath whose leather apron there beat the kind- 
est heart — there glowed a bosom fired with the noblest 
ambition ; and who without fee from scholar or reward 
from man, while he toiled for his hard earned bread with 
the sweat of his brow educated not less than five hundred 
out-casts, before they laid him in the lowly grave ! Hon- 
or, we say again, to the memory of this illustrious patri- 
ot! Nor is there in all the world any sight we would 
have traveled so far or so soon to see, as that self-same 
man, when he followed some ragged boy along the quays 
of Portsmouth, keeping his kind, keen eye upon him, and 
tempting the young savage to his school with the bribe of 
a smoking potato. Princes and peers, judges and divines, 
might have stood uncovered in his presence; and how 
marble monuments might be removed from the venerable 
walls of Westminister — poets, warriors and statesmen 
might give place — to make room for him. 

John Pounds has a nobler and more lasting monument 
than any of marble or brass — he has 

"For epitaph, a life well spent, 
And mankind for a monument." 



11. Did John Pounds have more, or less advantages 
for doing good than most persons have'? Did he have 
greater advantages for learning himself? Did he have 
more money ? — more influence'? Wliy was he more suc- 
cessful than most persons are in living usefully'? 

l % -2. Most persons think it is very desirable to occupy 



KINDNESS TO THE UNFORTUNATE. 169 

some high station in life. What higher station is there, 
than every one can make, for himself or herself, by liv- 
ing usefully'? 



LESSON XXIII 



BE KIND TO THE UNFORTUNATE. 



narrative. 

An Incident in School Life — Never Twit a Boy of 
what he cannot Avoid. —Years ago, when I was a boy, 
it was customary, and probably- is now to some extent, 
among district schools in the country, to have spelling- 
schools during the winter term. These gatherings were 
always anticipated with great interest by the scholars, as 
at these times was to be decided who was the best speller.. 
Occasionally one school would visit another for test of 
scholarship in this regard. Ah! how the little hearts 
would throb, and big ones thump, in their anxiety to beat 
the whole. 

Once on a time, a neighboring school sent word, to 
ours, that on a certain day in the afternoon, they would 
meet in our school-house for one of these contests. As 
the time was short, most of the other studies were sus- 
pended, and at school and at home in the evenings, all 
hands were studying to master the monosyllables, dissyl- 
lables, abreviations, &c, &c, which the spelling books 
contained. 

At length the day arrived, and as our visitors were 
19 



170 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

considered rather our superiors, our fears and anxiety 
were proportionately great. The scholars were ranged 
in a standing position, on opposite sides of the house and 
the words pronounced to each side alternately; and the 
scholar that "missed" was to sit down. His game was 
up. 

It did not take long to thin the ranks of both sides. — 
In a short time our school had but eight on the floor, and 
theirs six. After- a few rounds, the contest turned in 
their favor, as they had four standing to our two. For 
a long time it seemed as though these six had the book 
"by heart.'' At length the number was reduced to one 
on each side. Our visitors were represented by an ac- 
complished young lady, whose parents had recently ar- 
rived in town, and. hours by myself, a ragged little boy 
of ten summers, who had set up night after night, while 
my mother, with no other light than that produced by 
a pine knot, pronounced my lessons to me. The interest 
of the spectators was excited to the highest pitch, as word 
after word was spelled by each. At length the young 
lady missed, and I stood alone. Her teacher said she 
did not understand the word. She declared she did: that 
the honor was mine, and that I richly deserved it. That 
was a proud moment for me. I had spelled down both 
schools and was declared victor. My "cheeks burned, and 
my brain was dizzy with excitement. 

Soon as the school was dismissed, my competitress 
came and sat down by my side and congratulated me on 
my success, inquired my name and age. and flatteringly 
predicted jay future success in life. 

Unaccustomed to such attentions, 1 doubtless acted us 
most little boys would under such circumstances, injudi- 
ciously. At this junction; Master G., the sou of the rich 
man of our neighborhood- tauntingly said to me. in the 



KINDNESS TO THE UNFORTUNATE. 171 

presence of my fair friend, and a number of boys from 
the other school — "Oh, you needn't feel so big — your 
folks are poor and your father is a drunkard." 

I was no more happy — I was a drunkard's son — and 
how could I look niy new friends in the face? My heart 
seemed to rise in my throat, and almost suffocated me. 
The hot tears scalded my eyes — but 1 kept them back; 
and soon as possible, quietly slipping away from my com- 
panions, procured my dinner basket, and, unobserved, 
left the scene of my triumph and disgrace, with a heavy 
heart, for my home. But what a home! "My folks 
were- poor — and my lather was a drunkard.'' But why 
should I be reproached for that? I could not prevent my 
father's drinking, and assisted and encouraged by my 
mother, 1 had done all I could, to keep my place in my 
class at school, and to assist her in her worse than wid- 
owhood. Boy as I was. I inwardly resolved never to 
taste of liquor, and that I would, show Master G. if I was 
a drunkard's son, I would yet stand as high as he did. — 
But all my resolution was produced by his taunting words 
and haughty manner. In this frame of mind, my head 
and heart aching, my eyes red and swollen — I reached 
home. My mother saw at once that I was in trouble, 
and inquired the cause. I buried my face in her lap, and 
burst into tears. Mother seeing my grief, waited until 
I was more composed, when I told her what had happened, 
and added passionately — "I wish father wouldn't be a 
drunkard, so we could be respected as other folks." At 
first mother seemed almost overwhelmed, but quickly 
rallying, said, "My son, I feel very sorry for you, and 
regret that your feelings have been so injured. G. has 
twitted you about things you cannot help. But never 
mind, my son. Be always honest, never taste a drop of 
intoxicating liquor; study and improve your mind. De- 



172 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

pend on your own exertions, trusting in God. and you 
will, if your life is spared, make a useful and respected 
man. I wish your father, when sober, could have wit- 
nessed this scene, and realize the sorrow his course brings 
on us all. But keep a brave heart, my son. Remember 
you are responsible only for your own faults. Pray 
to God to keep you, and don't grieve for the thoughtless 
and unkind reproaches that may be cast on you on your 
father's account.'" This lesson of my blessed mother, 1 
trust, was not lost upon me. Nearly forty years have 
gone since that day, and I have passed many trying scenes 
but none ever made so strong an impression on my feel- 
ings as that heartless remark of G's. It was so unjust, 
and so uncalled for. Now. boys, remember always to 
.treat your mates with kindness. Never indulge in taun- 
ting remarks toward any one, and remember that the son 
of a poor man, and even of a drunkard, may have sen- 
sibilities as keen as your own. 

But there is another part in this story. The other day 
a gentleman called at my place of business, and asked if 
I did not recognize him. I told him I did not. "Do you 
remember." said he. "of being at a spelling-school a cer- 
tain time, and a rude, thoughtless boy twitted you of 
poverty and being a drunkard's son?'' "I do, most dis- 
tinctly, said I." "Well." continued the gentleman. "I am 
that boy. There lias not probably a month of my life 
passed since then, but I have thought of that remark 
with regret and shame, and as I am about leaving for 
California, perhaps to end my days there. 1 could not go 
without first calling on you, and asking your forgiveness 
for that act." Boys, I gave him my hand as a pledge of 
forgiveness. Did I do right? You all say yes. Well, 
then, let me close it as a bargain. Boys never twit an- 
other for what he cannot help. — Buffalo Courier. 



KINDNESS TO THE UNFORTUNATE. I ?o 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

I . Was it already a source of deep sorrow to the boy 
in the narrative, that his lather was intemperate? What 
was then the duty of every other scholar towards this 
hoy? 

'2. If we know that children, or others, are suffering 
from cruelty or misconduct which they cannot prevent, 
what is always our duty towards them? 

o. In what ways do persons often add to the sorrows of 

< >thers unnecessarily ? 

4. In what ways might the same persons often help to 
lessen the same sorrows? 

5. What do you observe to approve iu the conduct of 
the young lady who came and conversed with the boy 
after the spelling exercise? 

(5. Which would you value the more highly, were you 
in circumstances of poverty or misfortune, kind words of 
sympathy and encouragement, or presents of money or 
goods'? 

7. Some persons desire to be respected and loved on 
account of their fine personal appearance, and some for 
their expensive or fashionable dress, and some for their 
rich relatives. What qualities do you think should en- 
title any one to respect and sympathy from every one? 



NARRATIVE. 



The Patched Gown. — "I wish I had a better gown, 
lother," said Emily Foster, as she was getting ready for 



174- 



ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 



school, one cold morning in December; "the girls laugh, 
at this so: and yesterday. Julia Haven asked rrie, if I 
bought it of the rag-man ." 

Mrs. Foster's eyes filled with tears while her little 
(laughter was speaking. A few years before she had 
been prosperous in circumstances; but the death of her 
husband, and much sickness in the family afterwards, had 
reduced her to distressing poverty. Emily was the eld- 
est of her three children, and she had but just entered 
upon her eighth year, so that, — although the poor woman 
toiled all day with her needle, and Emily worked dili- 
gently almost every minute out of school hours, — she 
was hardly able to provide the family with the scanty 
food which was their daily fare, or with sufficient clothing 
to shield them from the inclemency of the weather. She 
had made a great effort to send her daughter to school, 
because she was very anxious that she should learn all 
that was possible in her circumstances. She knew that 
she could go only a very short time, when she must leave 
school to toil wearily and uninterruptedly. It was there- 
fore with a sorrowful heart she learned that Emily had 
been exposed to ridicule on account of her patched and 
scanty dress. She tried hard, however, to conquerjier 
emotion, and after being silent a moment, said: 

"But, my dear, your gown is not ragged. There is 
not a single hole in it." 

"I know it, mother. 1 suppose they laugh at it because 
it is patched up so. I could hardly help crying yester- 
day, they made so much sport of it." 

"But it is no harm, my child, to wear a patched gown. 
It is the very best I can get for you." 

"1 know that, and I try hard not to care what the girls 
say — only sometimes it makes me feel so bad." 

-hist then a lady entered, to engage Mrs. Foster fco do 



KINDNESS TO THE l/XFOUTUN ATE. ] 

some sowing for her. and so the conversation between the 
mother and daughter was interrupted. 

Alas! thoughtless children little know how much un- 
liappiness they often cause those, who have Sufci-Ogs 
ft/on(/h from the ills of poverty ! 



s. Should patched dresses, or hitemperatc parents, or 
poverty. prevent any one from being respected and loved? 

9. Which would you think the more criminal, to steal 
small articles of property from poor and unfortunate 
children, or to rob them of their rights and their happi- 
ness, by ridiculing their dress, or by allusions to the in- 
temperance of their 'parents, as in the foregoing narrative? 



NARRATIVE. 

A Scene. — We saw yesterday, at the Depot, a poor. 
pale, little girl peddling peaches among the passengers 
who were constantly coming and going through the place. 
Her sorrowful looks, her timid way, her pale thin face, 
with the traces of tears visible upon it, and her meek bine 
eye. "all and singular," had their effect upon the stran- 
gers around, and many there were that bought her fruit 
to cheer her heart, and with their bits of silver dropped 
a word of kindness and encouragement in her ear, more 
precious than coin to her, after the pressing necessity that 
drove her among that crowd, should be satisfied. But 
one there was who excited our indignation. With a 
costly overcoat upon one arm, a well-stuffed carpet-bag 
in the other hand, in elegant apparel, and with a massive 
gold watch-chain dangling a foot in length from his fob 



176 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

and ending in a costly seal, he passed through on his way 
to the western ears. "Please buy some peaches. S\yV~ 
said the little girl, with an arch twist of the head and a 
pleasant smile playing about her lips, brought there by 
the cheerful words that had fallen so like a gentle bless- 
ing on her heart. "Some peaches? only a penny apiece.'* 
and she held out her basket. "Get away with your 
trash!'' was the surly response of this human mastiff, ac- 
companied by a kick, which knocked the basket from the 
poor creature's hand and scattered its contents among* 
a crowd of greedy boys, who commenced picking up the 
fruit and devouring it. 

The clouds of sorrow all came back again in a moment, 
and, at this new trouble, her tears gushed forth from her 
eyes afresh. A citizen who stood by quietly stepped 
up and paid for the peaches and bade her never mind. 
The man (?) who did it went on with a look of conscious 
mightiness and seated himself in the car. We saw that 

his baggage was labelled — "C , home," where he 

doubtless secures the fawning always attendant upon 
wealth, and is considered a "respectable'' member of 
community. — Buffalo Rough Notes. 



10. Which would you think the more disgraceful and 
criminal, to steal a poor girl's peaches, or scatter them 
to the boys, as the man did in the last narrative, 



VARIED APPLICATION OF RIGHT PRINCIPLES 
QUESTIONS FOR SPECIAL AND GENERAL REVIEW. 

!. Boys sometimes tcaze. and annoy, and abuse drun- 



KINDNESS TO THE UNFORTUNATE. 177 

ken persons. If a man is so very unfortunate as to be 
a drunkard, is it right to make sport of him or abuse 
him? 

2. Persons who are insane, or idiotic, sometimes wan- 
der about the city or country. Is it right, in any man- 
ner, to make sport of their singular appearance, or strange 
conduct ? 

3. Families that are very poor sometimes travel through 
cities and the country, and boys make sport of their pov- 
erty and distress. What course of conduct ought every 
one to pursue towards such persons? 

4. Sometimes very worthy persons, who have lost an 
eye, or lost a limb, are treated with coldness and neglect 
on this account, by their acquaintances, or by strangers. 
Ef you should become deformed by an accident upon the 
rail road, how would you like to have your acquaintan- 
ces and strangers treat you? 

5. Aged and infirm persons are often much neglected 
on account of their age or infirmity. How should tin* 
be I 

(5. Persons who have not had the advantages of edu- 
cation or of much society, often have their feelings very 
much injured by the ridicule, or the sneers, or the haugh- 
tiness of those who have had very superior advantages. 
How should this be? 



LESSON XXIV 



DO EIGHT AND FEAK NOT. 



NARRATIVE. 



Do Right and Fear not. — In the spring of the year 
1770, a large military and naval force from the old coun- 
try was stationed at Boston, to overawe the people and 
keep down the spirit of liberty which was rising in the 
colonies. The proceeding was, of course, exceedingly 
odious to the citizens, and the British soldiers were often 
subjects of taunt and insult. On the evening of the 5th 
of March, a turbulent party of men and boys,' surroun- 
ded a sergeant's guard, and pelted them with snow-balls. 
Irritated to the highest degree, they fired upon their as- 
sailants, and killed five of them. The indignation of the 
populace was deep and violent, and could scarcely be re- 
strained by the force of the law. The soldiers were ar- 
rested and charged with wilful murder. Their chance 
for a fair trial in such a community was indeed desper- 
ate. They applied to John Adams, (father of the late 
John Quincy Adams,) and Josiah Quincy, Jr., (father of 
the late President of Harvard College,) two of the first 
lawyers of their day, and also two of the most fearless 
and determined opposers of British oppression. It was 
a rare compliment that these forlorn prisoners paid to 
the integrity and magnanimity of these patriotic gentle- 
men. They, (Messrs. Adams and Quincy,) were satis- 



DO RIGHT. 179^ 

tied that the soldiers acted in self-defence, and that they 
were guilty of nothing more than what is called justifi- 
able homicide. In other words, that the law would not 
hold them guilty of murder. 

But there was reason to fear, that the voice of justice 
would not be heard in the din and clamor of political, 
strife ; and yet for them to become the defenders of such 
men — to protect and befriend the invaders of the coun- 
try, and the minions of despotic power, was to encounter 
the storm of popular passion, and to expose themselves 
to the loss of reputation, property and public confidence. 

They, nevertheless, did what duty demanded. Justice 
was maintained — the law was vindicated — and the rights 
even of an enemy were respected. For a time, however:, 
the exalted name and virtues of the two patriots were 
under reproach, and it was not until the excitement of 
the circumstances passed away, that their noble and mag- 
nanimous course received its admiration, and their char- 
acter, shone forth with increased brightness. 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

.!. If the whole people had threatened Mr. Adams and" 
Mr, Quiney with personal violence, if they undertook 
to defend the enemies of their country, what would you 
have advised them to do, in case they thought that strict 
justice required them to defend the soldiers? 

% But if Mr. Adams and Mr. Quiney had truly be- 
lieved that some American soldiers were really guilty of 
murder, and ought to be tried for their crime, while all 
^>i the people were very anxious to excuse and protect 
them, what would you have advised these eminent law- 
yers to do'? 



180 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

3. In which case is it the more difficult to do right, 
when we fear giving offence to our best friends, or when 
we fear persecution and violence from our enemies'? 

4. Which would you think worthy of the greater hon- 
or, the person that would dare to do right, when both 
friends and enemies opposed, or the man who has reach- 
ed the highest public stations by his talents and learning? 

5. Is it more, or less easy for the person to do right, 
who has been neglectful of some duty, or who has himself 
just been guilty of some wrong act? 



NARRATIVE. 

I cannot tell a Lie. — In the war of the Revolution, 
while General Lafayette commanded in the American 
army, a part of the troops were encamped at a certain 
place near the water's edge. One calm summer's eve- 
ning, a soldier who was a fifer in one of the companies, 
went into the water for the purpose of bathing. Being 
an excellent swimmer as well as a fifer, he took his fife 
with him to the water and engaged in fifino- and swim- 
rning at the same time, The music reached the ear of 
Lafayette, Early the next morning he sent an officer in 
pursuit of the man. who had thus disobeyed the orders 
of the camp. 

The soldier was a native of Connecticut, and a man of 
truth. When arrested by the officer, and on the way to 
the General's tent, he thought within himself that perhaps 
he might escape a severe punishment by denying the 
deed. On a few moments' reflection, however, he said 
to himself, "I have always spoken the truth — I cannot 
toll ;i lie." With this principle in his mind, he came in 



DO RIGHT. 181 

the presence of the General, who asked if he was the in- 
dividual who played upon the water the evening previous; 
to which he replied, "I am." "And do you know," con- 
tinued Lafayette, "of any others who can play the same 
tune?" "Two or three, I do," said the soldier. "To- 
morrow evening then, at such an hour, I wish you to re- 
pair to my tent with them." He came at the appointed 
time. The General then informed them, that the tune 
which he had heard the evening before, affected him very 
much — that on a former occasion it had been played at 
the funeral of a dear friend of his, who died in his native 
country. Since then, until now he had never met with 
an individual who eonld play it, "And for the purpose of 
indulging in the melancholy pleasure of hearing it once 
more, I have," said he, " sent for you." 

The General, after being agreeably entertained with 
the conversation and music of his guests, dismissed them 
with his thanks, and some guineas from his purse, as an 
expression of his satisfaction in their performance. 



(5. In the army, soldiers are often whipped for disobe- 
dience to military discipline. Which would have been 
the severer punishment to the soldier, in the last narra 
tive, the whipping, or the reproof of his conscience? 

7. Which, probably, afforded the soldier the purer and 
higher enjoyment, the consciousness of doing right, or 
the guineas from the purse of General Lafayette? 

8. When we do right, what must always be our motive 
for doing right? 

8. Will doing right, because it is right, be, of itself a 
reward? — greater than what other rewards? 
20 



182 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 



NARRATIVE. 



First Step to Distinction. — Known to all is the 
proverb, "Honesty is the best policy;" and yet how 
many neglect to make it the rule of their conduct! 

The history of few men more strikingly illustrates the 
truth of this proverb, than that of the able and illustri- 
ous French Minister, Jean Baptiste Colbert. In Cham- 
ber's Miscellany, No. 1, is a beautiful " Story of Colbert," 
from which it appears, that he might have said, at the 
close of his brilliant career, with Corneille, "I owe all 
my renown to myself." His first step to distinction was 
, while a woollen draper's apprentice, an act of honor and 
honesty. He had been overpaid, by his mistaking the 
price of a piece of goods, by a banker of Paris, two hun- 
dred and forty crowns. His knavish old master, on 
learning the fact, was delighted, and exclaimed, "You 
are a fine boy, a good boy, Baptiste; you will one day 
be an honor to all your friends. Six hundred and thirty 
francs profit on the piece ! Oh, happy day ! " And he 
agreed to let Baptiste have something of the profits as a 
reward. But no sooner did the honest boy learn the 
mistake, and hear this remark of his master, than he re- 
plied, "How, godfather; would you take advantage?" — 
And taking up his hat, he continued, "I will go to the 
gentleman whom I have treated so badiy, beg him to ex- 
cuse me, and return him the money he overpaid," and he 
immediately accomplished this honest resolution; and for 
so doing, he was turned out of employment. But this 
act of honor and honesty, proved the truth of the above 
proverb, and became his first step to distinction. The 
next day, the rich banker, learning all the facts connected 
with the conduct of this honest boy, took him into his 
<>wn banking-house. From that first step, his career was 



CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. ] JS.3 

upward in the road of usefulness and honor, till he was 
created "Comptroller-general of Finance," by Louis XIV. 
He closed his useful and brilliant life in 1683, at the. age 
of sixty-four. 



10. The master of Colbert, in the last narrative, offered 
him a portion of the profits u as a reward" for bringing 
him so much of another man's money, through mistake. 
Though Colbert received not a penny of the money, did 
he have any '■'rewards' 1 '' for doing right? 

11. Among all the "rewards" which Colbert received 
in the course of his life for this act of honesty, which was 
the greatest reward? 



LESSON XXV. 



BE MERCIFUL TO ANIMALS. 



NARRATIVE. 



Beware of Cruelty to Birds. — In the summer of 
1830 I was returning from the then village of Boch- 
ester, N. Y., whither I had been to attend the Genesee 
Conference on business relating to the Oneida Conference 
Seminary. The coach paused a moment in front of the 
stage-house, at the beautiful village of Canandaigua, when 
a fine-looking gentleman, accompanied by a little boy and 
a young lady — the latter perhaps an older sister of the 
former — came on board. It was soon ascertained that 



184 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

they were going to a neighboring town, to .attend a col- 
lege commencement. The boy appeared to be some eight 
or nine years old, and had evidently been reared with the 
greatest tenderness. He was as pale as a house-plant, 
and, had not one of his eyes been somewhat injured, 
would have been really beautiful. A more innocent 
looking little fellow, indeed, could hardly be imagined. 

For some time, he was quite silent, and seemingly ab- 
sorbed in the contemplation of the novel and enchanting 
country scenes that were constantly opening upon his 
vision. But finally something, perhaps the appearance of 
red-breasts on some of the neighboring boughs, led him 
to speak. "Father," said he, "do you know what Jim 
and I did to the old robin that built her nest in our gar- 
den?" 

The father responded, "I believe not, Phillip; what 
did you do?" 

"Why," said he, "Jim crept up to the bush, and put 
his hat over the nest when the old bird was on it, and 
thus we caught her. We then tied a string round her 
leg, so she could not get away ; when we pulled out her 
feathers, then maimed her wing, and so on till we finished 
her." 

The whole was such a tale of cruelty as 1 had scarcely 
ever before heard. Coming from one so young, and 
seemingly so innocent, it was doubly painful. The fa- 
ther evidently did not appreciate it as I did, for he barely 
said, with little seeming emotion, "Do you think it was 
right, my son, to torture the poor old bird in that way ?" 

"O," said he, with a very significant nod of his head, 
"we wanted some fun, and we had it!" 

Here was the beginning of a life of cruelty. This 
boy, the son of a man occupying a high public station, 
chose for his occupation the life of a pirate, and ended 



CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 185 

his career by suffering the penalty of death for his crimes, 
on the broad ocean, away from his friends and his country. 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. What proofs can be shown that animals ever feel 
pain'? 

2. What evidence is there that animals dread death'? 
— that animals love their young'? — that they try to aid 
each other in distress? 

3. May persons ever learn to love to be kind? In what 
manner? 

4. May persons ever learn to love to be cruel? In 
what manner? 

5. Can a virtuous man, or a virtuous boy, feel any 
pleasure in causing pain to any body, or to anything, un- 
necessarily ? 

6. Under what circumstances do you think it right to 
take the life of animals? 

7. Under what circumstances do you think it wrong to 
take the life of animals? 

8. Is there anything wrong in shooting birds or squir- 
rels in the woods and fields, just for sport? 

9. If it is right to shoot birds for sport, is it not right 
to strip oft' their feathers and break their wings, as did 
the boy in the narrative, just for sport? 

10. Do persons who treat animals with cruelty, injure 



18<> ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

themselves in any way, at the same time? In what man- 
ner'? 



NARRATIVE. 

4 Cruelty to Birds. — A friend of mine was pleased the 
other morning, as he passed down a street in the town 
near which I live, to observe an instance of feeling for 
birds in a poor woman, whose voice he heard very loudly 
reproving an idle boy, who had just been doing what we 
have so often seen reproved. The boy had been using 
his utmost efforts to rake down the nest of a poor little 
martin from under the eave of a house, and had just suc- 
ceeded in cruelly destroying it; when, alas! too late to 
save the mischief from being done, his reprover ran out 
of her door, and used a very excellent mode of bringing 
home to his mind a sense of the cruelty he had shown. 
She was crying out to him in this manner when my 
friend passed: "You little mischief, how would yon like 
to have your house pulled down about your ears'?" Very 
miserable, no doubt, that little urchin would have been if 
his own home had been destroyed as thoroughly as the 
nest of the bird was by his hand; but he never thought 
of that; he never remembered that the bird had feelings 
as well as he; he thought of his own amusement, and 
nothing else. The next thing would be that he would 
learn not to care for the feelings of another boy ; then not 
for the feelings of his own mother and father, and brothers; 
and, perhaps, he might at last learn to do them all great 
injuries, just for want of thinking that they feel. Cruelty 
to animals leads, 1 am sure, very often to cruelty to every 
thing. From laughing at the cry of a bird, it i* easy to 
go on to laughing at the cry of one's own kith and kin; 
just as the Roman people, in ancient times, after being 



CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 1B7 

accustomed to delight in the dying roar and struggle of 
wild beasts in their theatres, learned to take the same 
savage pleasure in the death of men and women and 
Christian martyrs, tormented in the same place by wild 
beasts for their amusement. And they called this a 
"holiday." There is a wide difference, I own, between 
this and the schoolboy's holiday, when he goes out rifling 
nests and destroying young birds; but still there is too 
much of an unfeeling heart in the amusement which can 
be found in giving pain to the least and the lowest of ani- 
mals. A Christian child ought to be still further from a 
heathen crowd than in merely the selection he makes of 
the objects of his cruelty. 



11. The Roman people, in ancient times, took delight 
in seeing animals fight with each other. What do you 
see to disapprove in such amusements'? 

12. Have you ever known any persons in modern times, 
who delighted to see dogs, or other animals, fight with 
and destroy each other? 

13. When persons have learned to take delight in see- 
ing cruelty, what would you expect of them respecting 
the practice of cruelty themselves'? 



NARRATIVE. 



Cruelty to Animals Punished. — Peter Komming, 
the son of a wealthy farmer, was a very cruel boy. He 
took great delight in torturing dumb animals. I am 
afraid to put on paper the way he treated flies, beetles, 
do^s, and cats, while their cries and groans were like 



188 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

music to his ears; it would make your blood run cold. 
The poor creatures could not defend themselves, they 
could not punish their oppressor, there was nobody to 
take their part. Did I say there was nobody to take 
their part? I did not mean so, for God was on their side. 
He saw the cruelties practiced upon them, and he did not 
intend to let them always go unpunished. 

Peter went on his way till he grew up to be a man, 
when he hired himself out to a brewer. One day his hat 
falling into a vat of boiling hot beer, in trying to catch it 
he lost his balance and fell in; in falling, he grasped the 
rim of the vat with both hands, and cried for help. He 
was soon drawn out, but his feet were dreadfully scalded 
by the hot beer. He roared in agony, and cursed and 
swore in a most dreadful manner. After a while he grew 
more quiet, though his face was the picture of dispair. 
He asked to see a minister, and one was sent for. 

"0, Sir," he exclaimed, "God is terribly punishing me 
for my sins, especially for my cruelty to his creatures. 
I have tortured many hundreds, and now in what torture 
am I ! Were I a thief, I might make amends for the sto- 
len goods; but I can never give life back to the animals 
which I have murdered, and who had nothing but life to 
rejoice in. How can God be merciful to me, since I have 
been so unmerciful'? His anger is upon me. His justice 
has overtaken me ; wretched man that I am ! " 

The doctor came, and said that before half an hour 
his legs must be taken off, or he would die. Did he not 
then think how many limbs he had pulled off in sport? 
He could not help thinking of it. Peter could not bear 
to think of dying, so he put his legs under the sm-geon's 
knife, and only cried out against his sins during the pain- 
ful operation. 

Dark and distressing days followed. The minister 



SUFFERING WRONG DOING WRONG. 189 

came often to see him, instructed him in the gospel and 
begged him to repent and trust in Christ for mercy. It 
is hoped that this poor man found mercy. God is more 
merciful than man. He gained hi s health and lived many 
years. On every proper occasion he told his distressing 
story, that the young might take warning from his awful 
example. 



LESSON XXVI 



IT IS BETTER TO SUFFER WRONG THAN TO DO WRONG. 



NARRATIVE. 

Not Ashamed of Ridicule. — I shah never forget a 
lesson which I received when quite a young lad, at an 

academy in B -. Among my school-fellows were 

Hartly and Jemson. They were somewhat older than 
myself, and the latter 1 looked up to as a sort of leader 
in matters of opinion as of sport- He was not, at heart, 
malicious, but he had a foolish ambition of being thought 
witty and sarcastic, and he made himself feared by a be- 
setting habit of turning things into ridicule, so that he 
seemed continually looking out for matters of derision. 

Hartly was a new scholar, and little was known of 
him among the boys. One morning as we were on our 
way to school, he was seen driving a cow along the road 
toward a neighboring field. A group of boys, among 
whom was Jemson, met him as he was passing. The op- 
portunity was not to be lost by Jemson. "Halloa!" he 
exclaimed: -what's the price of milk? 1 say, Jonathan. 
21 



190 elementary moral lessons. 

what do you fodder on? What will you take for all the 
gold on her horns? Boys, if yon want to see the latest 
Paris style, look at those boots V' 

Hartly, waving his hand at us with a pleasant smile, 
and driving the eow to the field, took down the bars of a 
rail fence, saw her safely in the enclosure, and then put- 
ting up the bars, came and entered the school with the 
rest of us. After school, in the afternoon, he let out the 
cow, and drove her off, none of us knew where. And 
every day, for two or three weeks, lie went through the 
same task. 

The boys of Academy were nearly all the sons 

of wealthy parents., and some of them, among whom was 
Jemson, were dunces enough to look down with a sort of 
disdain upon a scholar who had to drive a cow. The 
sneers and jeers of Jemson were accordingly often renewed. 
He once, on a plea that he did not like the odor of the 
barn, refused to sit next to Hartly. Occasionally he 
would inquire after the cow's health, pronouncing the 
word "ke-ow," after the manner of some of the country 
people. 

With admirable good nature did Hartly bear all these 
silly attempts to wound and annoy him. 1 do not 
remember that he was even once betrayed into a look or 
word of angry retaliation. "1 suppose, Hartly," said 
Jemson, one day, "1 suppose your lady means to make 
a. milkman of you." -Why not I" asked Hartly. "O, 
nothing; only don't leave much water in the eans after 
you rinse them — that's all!" The boys laughed, and 
Hartly, not in the least mortified, replied. "Never fear; 
it ever 1 should rise to be a milkman. I'll give good 
treasure and good milk." 

The day after this conversation, there was a public 
exhibition, at which a number of ladies and gentlemen 






SUFFERING WUONG DOING WRONG. 193 

from other cities were present. Prizes were awarded by 
the Principal of our Academy, and both Hartly and 
Jemson received a creditable number; for, in respect to 
scholarship, these two were about equal. After the cer- 
emony of distribution, the Principal remarked that there 
was one prize, consisting of a medal, which was rarely 
awarded, not so much on account of its great cost, as 
because the instances were rare which rendered its 
bestowal proper. It was the prize for heroism. The 
last boy who received one was young Manners, who, 
three years ago, rescued the blind girl from drowning. 

The Principal then said that, with the permission of 
the company, he would relate a short story. Not long- 
since, some scholars were flying a kite in the street, just 
as a poor boy on horseback rode by on his way to mill. 
The horse took fright and threw the boy, injuring him so 
badly that he was carried home, and confined some weeks 
to his bed. Of the scholars avIio had unintentionally 
caused the disaster, none followed to learn the fate of the 
wounded boy. There was one scholar who had witnessed 
the accident from a distance, but stayed to render services. 

This scholar soon learned that the wounded boy was 
the grandson of a poor widow, whose sole support con- 
sisted in selling the milk of a fine cow of Avhich she was 
the owner. Alas! what could she now do 1 ? She was old 
and lame, and her grandson, on whom she depended to 
drive the cow to pasture, was now on his back, helpless. 
"Never mind, good woman," said the scholar, "I can 
drive your cow!" With blessings and thanks, the old 
woman accepted his offer. 

But his kindness did not stop here. Money was wanted 
to get articles from the apothecary. "I have money that 
my mother sent me to buy a pair of boots with ; but I 
can do without them for a while." "O, no," said the old 



192 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

woman, "1 can't consent to that; but here is a pair of 
cow-hide boots that I bought for Henry, who can't wear 
them. If you would only buy these, giving us what they 
cost, we should get, along nicely. " The scholar bought 
the boots, clumsy as they were, and has worn them up 
to this time. 

Well, when it was discovered by other boys of the 
Academy that our scholar was in the habit of driving a 
cow, he was assailed with laughter and ridicule. His 
cow-hide boots, in particular, were made matter of mirth. 
But he kept on cheerfully and bravely, day after day, 
never shunning observation, and driving the widow's cow. 
and wearing his thick boots, contented in the thought 
that he was doing right, caring not for all the jeers and 
sneers that could be uttered. He never undertook to 
explain why he drove a cow; for he was not inclined to 
make a vaunt of charitable motives, and, furthermore, in 
his heart he had no sympathy with the false pride that 
could look with ridicule on any useful employment. It 
was by mere accident that his course of kindness and 
self-denial was yesterday discovered by his teacher. 

And now, ladies and gentlemen, 1 appeal to yon. Was 
there not true heroism in this boy's conduct 'I Nay, 
master Hartly. do not slink out of sight behind the black 
board! You are not afraid of ridicule, you must not be 
afraid of praise. ( !on le forth, come forth, master Edward 
James Hartly, and let us see your honest lace! 

As Hartly. with blushing cheeks, made his appearance, 
what a round of applause, in which tin- whole company 
joined, spoke the general approbation of his conduct! — 
The ladies stood upon benches and waved their handker- 
chiefs. The old men wiped the gathering moisture from 
the corners of their eyes and clapped their hands. Those 
clumsy boots on Hartly's feet seemed prouder ornaments 



SUFFERINNG WRUNG — DOING WRONG. 193 

than a crown would have been on his head. The medal 
was bestowed on him amid general acclamation. 

Let me tell a good thing of Jemson before I conclude. 
He was heartily ashamed of his ill-natured raillery, and 
after we were dismissed, he went with tears in his eyes 
and tendered his hand to Hartly. making a handsome 
apology for his past ill-manners. "Think no more of it, 
old fellow," said Hartly. with delightful cordiality; "let 
ns all go and have a ramble in the w r oods before we break 
up for vacation.'" The boys, one and all, followed Jem- 
son's example ; and then we set forth with huzzas into the 
woods. What a happy day it was! 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. Are persons ever abused for doing what they think 
is right ? 

•2. How much will it ever harm any one to be abused 
for doing right? Row long will it harm any one? 

3. In what manner will those who ridicule, or abuse 
others for doing right, be the sufferers? How long will 
such persons be the sufferers \ 

4. Suppose Hartly, in the preceding narrative, had en- 
dured the abuse and ridicule of his companions, and no 
person had ever known his benevolent motives, or spoken 
approvingly of his conduct; was there any danger that 
Hartly would have been a great sufferer thereby? 

5. If we always have a good conscience for a friend. 
whom shall we fear? 

<i It was a matter of exultation with Jemson to inquire 



11)4 ELEMENTARY' MORAL LESSONS. 

"after the health of Hartly's cow." Whose cause for ex- 
ultation was finally the greater? 

7. Persons sometimes seek to take advantage of others 
in making bargains. Who is the greater loser when bar- 
gains are made unfairly'? 



NARRATIVE. 

A Bargain's a Bargain. — So it is; but its a bad bar- 
gain for him who bargains unfairly, let him make what 
he will by it. A man goes out to buy a horse. He finds 
one that he likes, and that the owner wants to sell ; but 
he is determined, if possible, to get him for less than he 
is worth. Accordingly he sets himself to depreciate the 
animal, by pointing out what he calls its defects and 
blemishes. "I like your horse in some respects, but he 
is too old. The man you bought him of must have de- 
ceived you. He called him eight you say. He must 
have been nearer twelve. See him, how his teeth are 
worn down. I can't afford to give you any thing like 
your price, besides, his pace is slow and heavy, and he- 
trips, I see, as if he had been foundered. He is raw- 
boned, too, and carries his head badly, and is too hard 
upon the bit, and 1 don't like the color. If he was a 
bright bay, I would give you a good deal more for him." 
Thus he cheapens the animal as much below his real 
worth as he can, and when he has got so far away that he 
thinks the owner will not hear of it, boasts what a good 
bargain he has made. "1 would not sell the animal for 
twice the money. He is of the right age and just what 
1 want." -'But then you must have cheated the man you 
bought him of." "O, no, a bargain's a bargain." That 
will he a, hard backed horse for an honest man to ride. 



SUFFERING WRONG DOINC4 WRONG. H)5 

Another wants to buy a house and adopts a similar 
course to get it for less than it is worth. "I don't like 
the location," he says, " it is too far from church. The 
ground is too low. It stands too near the street. It is 
badly planned; the rooms are too small or too large. 
The hall is too wide, or not wide enough. The kitchen is 
inconvenient. There is no china closet. It was slightly 
built, and must have a great many repairs, &c, &c. 
What do you ask for it?" "Two thousand dollars." 
-Two thousand dollars! Then there is no use in saying 
any more about it. I can buy a better place for a great 
deal less money." "Well, what will you give 1 ?" "Fif- 
teen hundred; and that is I consider more than it is worth." 
The seller knows it is cheap at two thousand, and so does 
the buyer. But he cannot afford to keep it. He must 
take what he can get, and the writings are drawn. Ask 
him what he will take for the property, and his lowest 
price is twenty -five hundred dollars. Now all at once 
the location is good; the place is convenient; it was well 
built, and it will cost but little to put it in first-rate re- 
pair. It i« a very good house. He cheated the seller 
by crying it down, and he knew it at the time. But "a 
bargain's a bargain," and every one must look out for 
himself. 

So true is the saying of the wise man, "It is nought, it 
is nought, saith the buyer, but when he is gone his way. 
then heboasteth." 



8. If a person should, knowingly, sell you a horse for 
twenty-five dollars more than he was worth, which would 
be the greater sufferer, yourself or the person who should 
sell you the horse? 

9. In what way would you be the sufferer? Iu what 



196 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

way would the seller of the horse, be the sufferer 1 Whose 
sufferings would last the longer? 

10. If others injure your feelings or your reputation, 
by saying to you, or about you, what is not true, in what 
way will you be the sufferer? — in what way the slanderer 
the sufferer? 



LESSON XXVII 



IT IS MOKE BLESSED TO GIVE THAN TO RECEIVE. 



NARRATIVE. 

Benevolence its own Reward. — Our readers know 
that on the evening of July 13th, 1846, a fire broke out 
in the town of Nantucket, which is on the beautiful Island 
of Nantucket outside of our harbor, by which hundreds 
of thousands of dollars worth of property were destroyed, 
and hundred of families reduced at once to penury. 

The sympathies of the kind people of Boston were im- 
mediately enlisted in behalf of the sufferers. A public 
meeting was called, and the proper measures were taken 
to appeal individually, and from house to house, for aid. 
One of the committee who is actively engaged in making 
collections, told nie yesterday a delightful little anecdote. 
which I cannot withhold from my readers. lie said, he 
went into a blacksmith's shop, where be scarcely expected 
to gel anything, as matters looked unpromising. Several 
men were at work, and lie made known his errand. The\ 



BENEVOLENCE. 19? 

all held down their heads and continued afc their Work, 
and no one replied. At length he inquired of them which 
was the principal, and they pointed out to him one of 
their number, a hard-featured, elderly looking man, and 
to him the gentleman made a direct appeal. "Well," 
said the blacksmith, putting down on end his ponderous 
sledge-hammer, "well, 1 am a poor man and can't do 
much, but here's a dollar." My friend thankfully took 
the dollar, expressed his acknowledgement for the chari- 
ty, and went on. Some hours after, having finished his 
round, in returning he passed by the same shop, and when 
opposite to it, was met with a warm grasp of the hand 
from the good blacksmith who had run out to meet him: 
"Sir! I thank you for calling on me this morning, and 
giving me an opportunity to do something for those who 
are worse off than myself. Before you come in I was 
thinking of my troubles, and was low-spirited and unhap- 
py all the morning; but since you gave me the opportu- 
nity of helping others a little, I have been cheerful and 
contented. You have taken a load off my heart, and 1 
thank you for it a thousand times." Dear readers, is not 
benevolence (springing from right motives) its own ex- 
ceeding reward? Go! all of you, and do likewise. 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION* 

1. Perhaps the blacksmith, spoken of in the preceding 
narrative, earned three dollars during the day on which 
he gave away one to help the needy. If so, which prob- 
ably gave him the greater pleasure, to get three dollars, 
or give away one. as he did? 

2. Wliy did it make the blacksmith feel so cheerful, 
after giving his dollar? 



198 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

3. If it made the blacksmith feel so happy and content- 
ed to help others a little, would it probably make others 
feel so to do the same? 

4. But if we have very little to give, will it be well to 
try to give anything? 

5. Perhaps many rich men of Boston and vicinity, gave 
fifty dollars each to aid the Nantucket sufferers. If so, 
which do you think was probably the happier, the black- 
smith who gave the dollar, or the rich man who gave fifty ? 

6. Which was probably the happier, the person in 
Nantucket who might happen to receive the blacksmith's 
dollar, or the blacksmith who gave it? 

7. Have you ever made presents to your friends? 
Have you ever received gifts from your friends or from 
others? Jn which case were you the happier? 

8. If you could have your choice, which would you 
prefer, the highest public station in the State, or the means 
to give to every one that was needy just as much as yov 
pleased? 

0. Wliy are not all persons more ready to give to each 
other and to those who need, if it is a source of so much 
happiness to give? 



NARRATIVE. 

The Knife-Grinder. — The grinders of Paris, though 
not extinct, have considerably diminished in number. 
They have been driven to adopt some other occupation, 
in consequence of flu- cutlers appointing each a certain 
day in the week for grinding — notifying the same by a 



BENEVOLENCE. . 199 

placard in their shop-windows. Any of my readers who 
search the municipal archives of Paris, will find a little 
history concerning one of them who had driven his grind- 
stone through the streets and suburbs of the city for more 
than fifteen years; which I see no reason why 1 should 
not re-produce here. It runs to the following effect: 

Antonie Benafoux was a grinder, living frugally upon 
the produce of his precarious industry. Upon the same 
lofty floor of the house in which he lodged, dwelt a poor 
widow of the name of Drouillant who had once seen bet- 
ter days. The death of her husband had deprived her of 
her resources, and driven her to a garret, where, with an 
only child — a boy too young to labor — she worked early 
and late at her needle for the means of subsistence. Bon- 
afoux, whose instinct had led him to comprehend and 
sympathize with her misfortunes, if he passed her on the 
stairs, would manifest his respect by a low bow, and his 
sympathy by a courteous inquiry after her little boy; 
though he sought no further acquaintance. But the wid- 
ow grew too feeble to work, and seeing her suffering from 
want, he called on her one morning and insisted on her 
borrowing a portion of his savings, alleging that he had a 
sum in the bank, and that he could well spare it. The 
brave fellow knew well enough that he was depositing his 
earnings in a sinking-fund; but it was not for him to 
stand by a poor lady and a mother pining for assistance 
which he could render. So she became his pensioner, 
with the understanding that she was to repay him when 
she could. Suddenly during the absence of the grinder, 
a stroke of apoplexy prostrated the poor widow. The 
whole house was in alarm; the doctor was sent for, and 
as soon as he had administered to her present wants, ar- 
rangements were made for carrying her to the hospital — 
that anti-chamber of the tomb of the unfortunate poor of 



200 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

Paris. At this moment Bonafoux came in. -'Stop,'' said 
he, "that lady must not go to the hospital; I know her 
better than you do; it would kill her to take her there. 
Doctor, attend her here, and do your utmost; I will de- 
fray your charges." The poor lady recovered slowly 
under the nursing which the grinder procured her, hut 
she was never ahle to resume her needle-work. Bona- 
foux supplied all her wants. When the boy grew old 
enough, he apprenticed him to a stove-maker, and cut up 
his own garments to provide him with an outfit. A sec- 
ond attack of apoplexy deprived the poor mother of the 
use of her limbs. 

The grinder continued his benefactions to the last hour 
of her life — nor relaxing his guardianship of her son until 
he was able to earn his own maintenance. It was for 
this act of truly Christian charity, extending over a long 
period, that the French Academy, in 1821, awarded to 
Antonie Bonafoux a gold medal and a prize of 400f. The 
historian who records the deed, declares that the grinder 
was worthy of the honor, and in addition to that, the es- 
teem of all good men; a judgment in which the reader 
will probably concur* 

QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

10. Which person enjoys the greater happiness, the 
one who gives without making any sacrifice himself, or 
the one who gives what he very much needs himself? 

11. What do you discover in the character of the knife- 
grinder that you approve? 

12. Though Bonafoux was awarded aprizeby the French 
Academy for his benevolence, did he give for that motive? 
What appeared to be his motive in helping the poor wid- 
ow and her son? 



BENEVOLENCE. 201 

13. Do you think it is safe for people who are not very 
rich, to give liberally? 



NARRATIVE. 

The Power of Love. — The dungeon and the scourge 
were formerly considered the only effectual way of re. 
straining maniacs, but experience has proved that love is 
the best controlling power. When Pinel, the humane 
French physician, proposed to try this experiment in the 
Bedlam at Bicetre, many supposed that his life would fall 
a sacrifice. But he walked fearlessly into dungeons where 
raving maniacs had been chained, some ten years, some 
forty years; and with gentle words, he convinced them 
that they were free to go out into the sunshine and open 
air. if they would allow him to remove their chains and 
put on their straight waistcoats. At first they did not 
believe it, because they had been so often deceived. 
When they found it true, nothing could equal their grati- 
tude and joy. They obeyed their deliverer with the ut- 
most docility, and finally became very valuable assistants 
in the management of the establishment. 

Dorothea L. Dix, our American Mrs. Fry, the God- 
appointed missionary to prisons and alms-houses, said 
that experience had more than confirmed her faith in the 
power of kindness over the insane and vicious. 

Among the hundreds of crazy people, with whom her 
sacred mission has brought her into companionship, she 
has not found one individual, however fierce and turbulent 
that could not be calmed by Scripture and prayer, uttered 
in low and gentle tones. The power of religious senti- 
ment over these shattered souls, seems perfectly miracti- . 
lous. The worship of a quiet, loving heart, affects them 



202 ELEMENTARY MQRAL LESSONS. 

like a voice from Heaven. Tearing and rending, yelling 
and stamping, singing and groaning, gradually subside 
into silence, and they fall upon their knees, or gaze up- 
ward with clasped hands, as if they saw through the 
opening darkness a golden gleam from their Father's 
throne of love. 

On one occasion, this missionary of mercy was very 
earnestly cautioned not to approach a raving maniac. 
He yelled frightfully, clay and night, rent his garments, 
plucked out his hair, and was so violent, that it was sup- 
posed he would murder any one who ventured within his 
reach. Miss Dix seated herself at a little distance, and 
without appearing to notice him, began to read, with se- 
rene countenance and gentle voice, certain passages of 
scripture filled with the spirit of tenderness. His shouts 
gradually subsided, until at last he became perfectly still. 
When she paused, he said meekly, " Read me some more, 
it does me good." And when, after a prolonged season 
of worship, she said, " I must go away now," lie eagerly 
replied, "No, you cannot go. God sent you to me and 
you must not go." By kind words, and a promise to 
come again, she finally obtained permission to depart. 
''Give me your hand," said he. She gave it, and smiled 
upon him. The wild expression of his haggard counte- 
nance softened to tearfulness, as he said, " You treat me 
right, God sent you." 

On another occasion she had been leading some twenty 
or thirty maniacs into worship, and seeing them all quiet 
as lambs gathered into the Shepherd's fold, prepared to go 
forth to other duties. In leaving the room, she passed 
an insane young man, with whom she had had several in- 
terviews. He stood with hands clasped, ami a counte- 
nance of the deepest reverence. With a friendly smUe 
she said, "Henry, are you well, to-day?" "Hush! — 



PURITY OP THOUGHT. 203 

hush!" replied he, sinking his voice to a whisper, and gaz- 
ing earnestly on the space around her, "hush!— there are 
angels with you! They have given you their voice." 



14. What other methods of giving to others are there, 
besides giving money'? 

15.- Could any person and every person do as the 
French physician, Pinel, did in controlling raving man- 
iacs'? 

16. Why did the maniacs in the mad-house at Bicetre, 
obey Pinel when others could not control them. % 

17. Which would afford you the purer pleasure, to 
make such unfortunate persons happy, or from your 
abundance, to give money to the poor 



■ o 



18. What higher office is there in the world than that 
of making the unfortunate happy? 



LESSON XXVIII 



THINK NO THOUGHTS THAT YOU WOULD BLUSH TO EX- 
PEESS IN WORDS. 



EXTRACT. 

A Bad Taint. — "What you learn from bad habits 
and in bad society," says Mr. Gough, "you will never 
forget, and it will be a lasting pang to you. I tell \o\\ 



204 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

in all sincerity, and not as in the excitement of a speech, 
but as I would confess, and have confessed before God, I 
would give my right hand to-night if I could forget that 
which .1 have learned in evil society — if I could tear from 
my memory the scenes which I have witnessed, and the 
transactions which have taken place before me. You 
cannot take away the effect of a single impure thought that 
has lodged and harbored in the heart. You may pray 
against it, and, by God's grace, conquer it ; but it will al- 
ways be a thorn in the flesh to you, and will cause yon 
bitterness and anguish*' 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. If a person should never indulge in wrong thoughts, 
what would you expect to see wrong in his actions'? 

2. Which come first in order, bad thoughts, or bad 
deeds ? 

3. If wrong or improper thoughts come into your 
mind, can you, at once, give your attention to something 
else, if you try? 

4. If you read an interesting story, can you give your 
whole attention to the narrative while reading it? 

5. If yon are called upon to attend to some other duty 
or business when busily engaged in reading, can you stop 
thinking of your reading and attend to the duty or 
business 1 * 

6. Can you stop thinking of your amusements and at- 
tend to your lessons, whvnyou try to do so? 

7. Can you. al any time think of particular persona or 



PURITY OF THOUGHT, 205 

places, or subjects, when you are very anxious to do so? 

8. Can you stop thinking upon one subject and think 
of another if you try to do so? 

9. What harm is there in thinking upon forbidden 
things, if you do not really intend to do anything wron^? 



EXTRACT. 

u 1t Costs Too Much. ,: — That little theft costs too 
much. It is only a shilling. I know; and perhaps it would 
never be missed: but it will cost you as much as a for- 
tune is worth. "I did not take the shilling," you say. I 
am glad of it. But I am afraid you will take it, never- 
theless. You have been looking at it, with a wishful eye, 
for some minutes. You have been trying to settle the 
question whether you would be found out or not, if you 
put the money into your pocket. You have been using 
all sorts of flimsy arguments to your conscience, to drown 
its voice, You said it was only a shilling, and nobody 
would be any worse for. your taking so small a sum. 
You talked about your salary being so small, and your 
master being so rich; and you thought you would refund 
the money, interest and all, when you got to be rich 
yourself. I know you did not take the money. But 
while you were gazing into that draw, and thinking what 
you should do about that shilling, you were standing on 
a fearful precipice. Many a youth has yielded to the 
tempter, as you were on the point of yielding, and thus 
entered on a career of crime which proved his ruin. It 
was a little, petty theft, that first one; but it cost him 
dearly. It will cost you dearly, my friend. It may cost 
you everything worth living for. 



8§8 ELSMEHTAEY MOEAL IBSBOKB. 

If, then, you really do not mean to steal, stop thinking 
about it. Your conscience has once faithfully and sol- 
emnly told you thati£ is wrong to steal. Therefore, put 
away from your thoughts, instantly, every idea of the 
possibility of doing what you know to be wrong. 



10. To what will dwelling in our minds upon forbidden 
acts, lead us? 

11. But if, after thinking long and favorably upon 
stealing, or lying, or revenge, or vulgarity, we should 
still never do any of these wrong acts, in what way should 
we be injured? 

12. Where do all things that make persons criminal, 
degraded and brutish, originate, in the thoughts, or in the 
conduct? 



extract. 

A Neglected Scratch. — An Indiana clergyman lately 
told a story about a man with whom he boarded when a 
college boy. The man was at his work one frosty mor- 
ning, and happened to get a slight scratch on the back of 
his hand. A single minute's attention to it would have 
caused it to heal in a day or two. It was neglected. A 
slight inflamation appeared, which a simple poultice would 
have reduced, but it was neglected. The whole hand 
became inflamed, and should have had the best medical 
attention, but it was neglected. The arm and shoulder 
;ind back were seized with pain, and now all was alarm 
and confusion. Twelve physicians were in attendance to 
consult upon the case. The question was, whether cut 



PURITY OF THOUGHT. 20? 

ting off the limb would save the man's life, and it was 
decided to be too late! The disease had gained a mortal 
hold, and no human skill could arrest it. A vicious habit 
an indulged little sin— a neglected duty— how easily they 
are taken care of, if we are in season with them, but how 
stubborn and ruinous they become, if they are let alone. 
And the time to commence with all those habits and in- 
dulgencies which degrade either children or men, is to 
banish everything that is wrong, at once, and forever 

FROM THE THOUGHTS. 

13. In the foregoing extract, it was said to be impossi- 
ble to cure the body that was first injured by a little 
scratch. Can a mind and heart that has become tainted 
by a little impurity be easily cured? 

14. Which would you think the more to be dreaded, 
a countenance covered with scars, and blemishes, caused 
by accident, or a mind and heart that has been scarred 
and deformed by indulgence and neglect'? 



EXTRACT. 

Guard against Vulgarity. — We especially commend 
the following extract to the thoughtful study of the young. 
Nothing is so repugnant and disgusting to the feelings of 
the noble and the good, as to hear the young, (or even the 
old) use profane, or low, vulgar language. The young of 
our cities are particularly guilty of profanity. In our 
day the "boy" does not feel himself a "man" unless he 
can excel in the use of low language : 

"We would guard the young against the use of every 
word that is not perfectly proper. Use no profane ex- 



208 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

pressions — allude to no sentences that will put to blush 
the most sensitive. You know not the tendency of ha- 
bitually using indecent and profane language. It may 
never be obliterated from your heart. When you grow 
up, you will find at your tongue's end some expression 
which you would not use for any money. It was one 
learned when you was quite young. By being careful, 
you will save yourself a great deal of mortification and 
sorrow. Good men have been taken sick, and become 
delirious. In these moments they have used the most 
vile and indecent language imaginable. When informed 
of it, after restoration to health, they had do idea of 
the pain they had given their friends, and stated that 
they had learned and repeated the expressions in child- 
hood, and though years had passed since they had spoken 
a bad word, they had been indelibly stamped upon the 
heart. Think of this, ye who are tempted to use improp- 
er language, and never disgrace yourselves.'" 



15. Is there any danger that persons who never think 
improper thoughts, will ever use improper words, either 
in sickness or health? 






EXTRACT. 

The Pure in Heart. — A gentleman, in one of his 
visits among the poor, met with one of his scholars, a lit- 
tle girl not six years old, who had just begun to read the 
New Testament. This child, being fond of singing, was 
anxious to possess one of the school hymn-books, which 
the gentleman kindly promised to give her, on condition 
that she would learn to read the fifth and sixth chapters of 



LIVE INNOCENTLY. 209 

St. Mathew's Gospel within the space of a fortnight. The 
little girl immediately undertook this task, and having 
brought her two diapers to the gentleman, began to 
read; but when she finished the first twelve verses, he 
caused her to stop in order to inquire of her which of 
the qualities described in the beatitudes she would desire 
most to possess. She paused a little while, and then re- 
plied, with a modest smile, "I v would rather be pure in 
heart." 

The gentleman asked her wherefore she should choose 
this blessed quality above all the rest. In reply to which 
she answered to this purpose: "Sir, if I had a pure heart, 
1 should then possess all the other qualities spoken of in 
this chapter. 



LESSON XXIX 



LIVE INNOCENTLY, IF YOU WOULD LIVE HAPPILY 



NARRATIVE, 



The Hard Snow Ball. — When 1 was about ten years 
old, and my brother eight, we were returning from school 
the snow was melting under a warm March sun, and I 
felt an irrepressible desire to enter the list with some one 
for snow-balling. We were away from our schoolmates: 
and making a very hard ball. I threw it with all my might 
at my brother. It struck him with great violence in the 
side, and to this moment I seem to see him writhing from 
the pain it gave him, and hear the bitter cry occasioned 



210 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

by my cruel deed. In my sport I had sadly hurt that 
dear brother, whom I ought to have loved and protected. 
A passing traveler frowned upon me for my cruelty, and 
I knew that the piercing eye of God was upon me. That 
dear brother made no complaint of me to our parents ; 
and neither to them nor to my Heavenly Father would 
my proud heart allow me to make confession. Why did 
I not do it? I knew I had clone wrong ; why not confess 
my fault to God, and receive the peace and joy of for- 
given sin 1 ? 

When another winter came, my little brother could 
not join me in our accustomed sports, he had such a 
weakness in his back. As the flowers of May appeared, 
he grew more pallid; he languished through the summer 
and autumn; and in the darkness of a December night 
we were summoned to see him die. A father's ear caught 
the last faint whisper from his lips, "Tell my brothers 
that they must pray. ? ' 

Now I wear the silver hair of age; but as often as I 
visit the mound of my little brother's grave, this heart 
yearns with tenderest grief, my tears unbidden flow, in 
sad remembrance of that one unkind, unfeeling act that 
caused his cry of distress, and that may have been the 
means of his early death. 



QUESTIONS FUR ILLUSTRATION. 

1. Why did the man, in the last narrative, feel sorrow- 
ful through his life-time when he thought of his younger 
brother? 

% If he had been entirely free from blame in throwing 
the snow-ball at his brother, might his whole life been a 



happier one 1 ? 



LIVE INNOCENTLY. 21 1 

3. Persons sometimes live a life of labor and toil, and 
surrounded with few luxuries. Ts it possible for such 
persons to live happily 1 ? 

4. Persons sometimes suffer from poverty and pain 
and other afflictions, and sometimes from a consciousness 
of guilt. Which is the harder to endure ? 



narrative. 

The Horrors of a Guilty Conscience who can bear 1 ? 
— When I was a child I was invited to spend an evening 
with a companion of mine who lived about a quarter of 
a mile from my father's house. It was autumn. The 
leaves had fallen from the trees. The birds had departed. 
The cold winds had begun to blow, and the ground was 
whitened with frost. 

My mother gave her consent, but little did she think 
of the temptation to which her child would be exposed. 
I went, and found I was to pass the evening with other 
children of the village. There were gathered the wealthy 
and the poor, but I was poorest of them all. I was 
clothed in my best attire, but it was thin and scanty for 
the season. I looked upon my companions, they were 
well and comfortably dressed. I told my sorrows to no 
one, but grieved at my lot, until envy, cruel envy, arose 
in my bosom and destroyed all my peace. It was soon 
proposed by one of the company that we should play 
blindman's buff, and by another that we should take off 
our shoes to prevent the noise it would occasion. All 
but myself commenced doing this, and run to put them 
together in one corner of the room. I had none to take 
off. I had none to wear. Indeed, I expected to go to 
school many days with cold feet, and when the snow 



212 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

came, to stay at home, which to me would he a greater 
grief than the former. The play was soon ended, and as 
the evening was very fine, it was proposed to walk in the 
garden. Every one ran for their shoes. I had thought 
too long and too deeply about them. I ran with the 
group and selected a pair belonging to a boy of about 
my own age and size, and was among the first that en- 
tered the garden, leaving the boy making many inquiries 
for Ins shoes. 

When we returned, I did not take them into the house 
with me, but placed them where I could conveniently 
take them when we went home, for I had determined 
upon keeping them. It was my first attempt to take that 
which did not belong to me. The sports of the evening 
were soon ended, and we prepared to return to our homes. 
I made great haste, and bidding the company good night, 
was the first to leave the house. Glad should I have 
been if the darkness of the night had surrounded me, but 
to me it appeared that the moon never shown with more 
brilliancy, or the stars shed more lustre. Notwithstand- 
ing this, I seized the shoes and hurried home. Conscience 
however had not ceased to upbraid me since the first mo- 
ments of my wrong, and as I walked home it was my 
only companion. 

At length I arrived at the door, but was afraid to go in. 
1 dreaded to meet my parents, for I felt that they knew 
all that I had done, and they had taught me the command, 
"Thou shalt not steal." I hid the shoes, and summoned 
courage to go in. How awful it is to fear to meet our 
dearest friends. Their kindness seemed reproof, and their 
smiles at that time worse than frowns. 

It being late, I soon retired with my brothers and sis- 
ters to our chamber, but 1 retired not to sleep. Very 
soon all around me was silent; nothing was heard but the 



LIVE INNOCENTLY. 2Vl 

breath of innocency sleeping by my side. But oh. the 
wretched condition of my mind. I felt I had justly de- 
served the displeasure of my parents, for I had disobeyed 
their commands, and if I had disobeyed, theirs, how much 
more had I disobeyed God's. Ever before I had consid- 
ered him as a lovely being, but now I felt I had provoked 
his anger. He had fixed the bounds of my habitation. 
hut T wished to be the disposer of my own fortune. 1 
knew he had witnessed the whole transaction, and that 
his All-seeing eye was every moment upon me. Had it 
been possible, how gladly would I have hid myself from 
him. I reflected upon my crime until it appeared so 
great, that every moment I expected the anger of the 
Lord would burst upon me. My head Avas pained, my 
limbs trembled. 

At length I resolved to arise and go, even at midnight, 
and return the shoes to the house from which I had taken 
them. 1 was about J caving my room, when I looked up- 
on the countenances of those who were free from the 
enormous crime of which I was guilty, and consequently 
were sleeping sweetly, and knew nothing of my sorrows. 
Gladly would I have awakened one to accompany me; 
but no, I must go alone. 1 passed easily down the stairs, 
and again found myself encompassed with difficulty. J 
could not go out without passing through my mother's 
room, and if I awoke her. she would be solicitous to know 
the reason of my leaving my chamber. But I was de- 
termined I would go, and if she awoke ] would tell her 
all. I succeeded in passing out without her waking, and 
taking the shoes, hurried half way to the house where I 
had passed the evening, and left them a short distance 
from each other in the road, and again returned to my 
chamber, and laid my head, upon my pillow; but my 
mind was not relieved, and compelled by conscience, I 
24 



214 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

again arose, returned to the spot where I had left them, 
and with a trembling heart went quite to the house, and 
placed them under the window near the door, and again 
returned to my bed — being quite exhausted, I soon fell 
asleep. 

The next week I went, in company with some of my 
companions, on a nutting excursion. The boy whom I 
had wronged was one of the number. I need hardly say 
that I was happy when I saw the shoes I had coveted, 
upon his feet, although I was still destitute. 

This incident has had a beneficial effect upon my life. 
Its influence is yet felt, although many years have passed 
since it occurred. Let it be a warning to all who may 
read it, to resist even the first approaches to evil, and 
they will avoid the misery of an upbraiding conscience, 
and the pain of self-reproach in after years. 



5. Why did the affectionate smiles of the boy's pa- 
rents, in the last narrative, cause the boy so much pain? 

6. Why did he prefer to take so much pains in the 
lonely hours of the night, to return the shoes to the place 
where he found them? 

7. Which did he probably find preferable, to be very 
-poor and go barefoot in the cold and frost, or carry with 
him, constantly, a sense of guilt ? 

S. Which would you prefer, to have plenty of property 
and enjoyments, not quite honestly obtained, or be very 
poor with the consciousness that you had never, in any 
manner, wronged any one? 

9. In what other ways may we be very guilty of wrong- 



LOVING OTHERS. 215 

ing others besides obtaining their property by stealing, 
or, in any manner, unfairly? 

10. In what ways may we be very guilty simply by 
neglecting to do any thing? 



LESSON XXX. 



WE MUST LEAKN TO LOVE OTHEES AS WE LOVE ODE- 
SELVES. 



NARRATIVE. 

Moral Heroism of Quakers. — In referring to the 
immeasurable superiority of victories of peace over 
victories in war, Mr. Cobden makes the following striking 
allusion to the moral heroism of the English Quakers 
amid the Irish famine: 

"The famine fell upon nearly one half of a great na- 
tion. The whole world hastened to contribute money and 
food. But a few courageous men left their homes in Mid- 
dlesex and Surrey, and penetrated to the remotest glens 
and bogs of the West coast of the stricken island, to 
administer relief with their own hands. They found 
themselves, not merely in the valley of the shadow of 
death — that would be but an imperfect image — they were 
in the charnel-house of a nation. Never, since the 11th 
century, did Pestilence, the gaunt handmaid of Famine, 
glean so rich a harvest. In the midst of a scene, which 
no field of battle ever equalled in danger, in the number 



216 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

of its slain, or the physical sufferings of the living, the 
brave men walked as calm and unmoved as though they 
had been in their homes. The population sunk so fast 
that the living could not bury the dead; half interred 
bodies protruded from the gaping graves ; often the wife 
died in the midst of her starving children, while the hus- 
band lay a festering corpse by her side. Into the midst 
of these horrors did our heroes penetrate, dragging the 
dead from the living with their own hands, raising the 
heads of the famishing children, and pouring nourishment 
into parched lips, from which shot fever-flames more 
deadly than a volley of musketry. Here was courage! 
No music strung the nerves ; no smoke obscured the im- 
minent danger; no thunder of artillery deadened the sen- 
ses. It was cool self-possession and resolute will, calcu- 
lated risk and heroic resignation. And who were these 
brave men? To what "gallant" corps did they belong? 
Were they of the horse, foot, or artillery force? No! 
They were Quakers from Clapham and Kingston! If 
you would know what heroic actions they performed, you 
must inquire from those who witnessed them. You will 
not find them recorded in the volume of Reports published 
by themselves — for Quakers write no bulletin of their 
victories. 



1. What do you perceive in the conduct of the Qua- 
kers, in the last narrative, that is unusual? 

2. Which would you think the position of greater 
danger, that of the soldier on the battle field, or that of 
the Quakers in the midst of the pestilence? 

3. What motive induces the soldier to meet danger? 
What motives induced these men of England to leave 



LOVING OTHERS. 217 

their homes and go to Ireland to help the sick and the 
dying? 

4. Can we learn to love those who are strangers to us? 
Can we learn to love our near relatives as we love our- 
selves? 

5. When we know that strangers, to us. are in need, 
or in distress, can we learn to feel for them, as we would 
feel for ourselves ] 

6. Would the Quakers of Clapham and Kingston have 
probably labored any more faithfully and devotedly with 
their nearest relatives than they did with these strangers 
in Ireland? 

7. If it was possible for these good men to feel such 
an interest in strangers, is it possible for others to do the 

same'.' 

8. Have you ever known instances where persons have 
loved others so well that they have, voluntarily and in- 
tentionally sacrificed their own lives, for the good of 
others, or to save the lives of others'? 



NARRATIVE. 



Filial Affection. — One incident of the disaster of the 
steamer Henry Clay, on the Hudson River, in 1552, 
discloses a rare and affecting magnanimity of soul. A 
mother and her daughter were clinging to each other when 
the ill-fated vessel struck the shore, and contemplated 
with dismay their slender prospect of reaching land from 
the stern of the boat, which lay far out in the water. As 
the progress of the flames was driving them to the fatal 



218 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

leap from the wreck, a friend came up and leaning over 
the daughter — as though to impart to the more youthful 
of the two, the small chance of life which remained — an- 
nounced that he would do everything in hsi power to aid 
them, but that it was scarcely possible for him to save 
more than one of them. So startling and sad an an- 
nouncement might well have thrown an ordinary mind 
into a perturbation that would destroy the possibility of 
any calm and rational action. A selfish soul would have 
grasped, with eager forgetfulness of all but the prospect 
of rescue, at the possibility, thus afforded, of escape. 
But the noble soul of which we write was neither over- 
came by the terror nor shaken by the temptation of the 
terrible hour. Her determination was instantly formed. 
She turned to her mother, and communicated the fact 
that only one of thern could be saved. Then giving her 
mother one kiss of affection, and breathiug one farewell 
word, and ere her intention could be divined, or her ac- 
tion anticipated, she plunged into the river; and thus she 
perished, decisively resigning her chance of escape to the 
mother whom she loved better than life. 

They recovered her remains from the water, and buried 
them with becomino- rites, and doubtless with most hu- 
mane sympathy; but few knew, save the broken-hearted 
mother, what a strength of filial love had throbbed in 
that poor cold bosom while it lived, nor in what a gener- 
ous devotion that faithful soul had perished at last. And 
did that soul really perish'? That mind, so calm, so 
prompt, so thoughtful, so superior to the direst emergen- 
cy of human life, did it utterly die? Was it bidden, 
having reached such an ardor of self-forgetting affection, 
to be gone out of this universe utterly and forever 1 
Does nothing remain, when the blood ceases to course 
through the veins, of all the boundless wealth of thought 



LOVING OTHERS. 219 

and feeling which had till that moment quickened its 
current? While even the body retains its form and 
aspect — nay, may preserve for ages some semblance of 
what it was — does the soul for which it existed, and 
whose bidding it so long obeyed, instantly perish'? 



9. Did the daughter in the foregoing narrative, love 
her mother as well as herself? — better* than herself? 

10. When you know that persons are willing to sacri- 
fice their lives for the good of others, what other virtues 
would you feel certain that such persons possessed? 

11. Which would you think the greater sacrifice, to 
die suddenly by drowning, as did the daughter in the last 
narrative, or to live a few months, or a few years, of suf- 
ering and disease, entirely for the welfare of others, with 
the certainty of death at the end? 



NARRATIVE. 

Self-Devotedness. — We know not when we have 
heard of a more striking instance of self-sacrifice for the 
spiritual good of others, than one told by an English 
minister. It is this: 

"The awful disease of leprosy still exists in Africa. — 
Whether it be the same leprosy as that mentioned in the 
Bible, I do not know; but it is regarded as perfectly in- 
curable, and so infectious that no one dares to come near 
the leper. In the south of Africa there is a lazar house 
for lepers. It is an immense space enclosed by a very 
high wall, and containing fields which the leper cultivates. 
There is only one entrance, which is strictly guarded. 



220 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

Whenever any one is found with the marks of leprosy 
upon him, he is brought to this gate and obliged to enter 
in, never to return. No one who enters in by that awful 
gate is ever allowed to come out again. 

"Within this abode of misery, there are multitudes of 
lepers in all stages of the disease. Dr. Halbeck, a mis- 
sionary of the Church of England, from the top of a 
neighboring hill, saw them at work. He noticed two, 
particularly, sowing peas in the field. The one had no 
hands, the other had no feet, these members being wasted 
away by disease. The one who wanted the hands was 
carrying the other, who wanted the feet, upon his back: 
and he again carried in his hands the bag of seed, and 
dropped a pea every now and then, winch the other 
pressed into the ground with his foot, — and so they man- 
aged the work of one man between the two. Ah! how 
little we know of the misery that is in the world. Such 
is a prison house of disease. 

"But you will ask, who cares for the souls of the hap- 
less inmates? Who will venture to enter at that dread- 
ful gate never to return again? Who will forsake father 
and mother, houses and land, to carry the message of a 
Savior to these poor lepers? Two Moravian missionaries, 
impelled by a divine love for souls, have chosen the lazar 
house as their field of labor. They entered it, never to 
come out again; and I am told, that as soon as these die 
other Moravians are quite ready to fill their place" 



LESSON XXXI 



THE GOOD ALONE AKE GREAT. 



NARRATIVE. 



Elizabeth .Fry. — Prominent among the distinguished 
women of England, is Elizabeth Fry ; the friend of the 
prisoner, the bondman., the lunatic, the beggar; who has 
been aptly named "the female Howard." Mrs. Fry 
hardly deserved more credit for the benevolent impulses 
of her heart, than tor the dignity and urbanity of her 
manners. They were natural, for they were born with 
her. The daughter of John and the sister of Joseph and 
Samuel Gurney. could hardly be else than the embodiment 
of that charity which nexov taileth. that philanthropy 
which embraces every form of human misery, and that 
amenity which proffers the cup of kindness with an. angel's 
grace. In youth, her personal attractions, and the vivac- 
ity of her conversation, made' her the idol of the social 
Circle, and severe was her struggling in deciding whether 
to become the reigning belle of the neighborhood, or 
devote her life to assuage the sorrows of a world of suf- 
fering and crime. Happily she resolved that humanity 
had higher claims upon her than fashion'. Her resolution 
once formed, she immediately entered upon the holy mis- 
sion to which, for nearly half a century, she consecrated 
that abounding benevolence and winning grace, which, in 
her girlhood, were the pride of her parents and the de- 
light of her companions. 

Though her eye was ever open to discover, and her 
hands to relieve, all forms of sorrow, it was to the inmates 
25 



222 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

of the mad-house and the penitentiary, that she mainly 
devoted her exertions. Wonderful was her power over 
the insane ! The keenest magnetic eye of the most ex- 
perienced keeper paled and grew feeble in its sway over 
the raving maniac, compared with the tones of her magic- 
voice. Equally fascinating was her influence over pris- 
oners and felons. Many a time, in spite of the sneers of 
vulgar turnkeys, and the responsible assurances of re- 
spectable keepers, that her purse and even her life would 
be at stake, if she entered the wards and cells of the 
prison, she boldly went in amongst the swearing, quarel- 
iug wretches, and with the doors bolted behind her, en- 
countered them with dignified demeanor and kindly words, 
that soon produced a state of order and repose which 
whips and. chains had vainly endeavored to enforce. 
Possessing peculiar powers of eloquence, (why may not 
a woman be an "orator?") she used to assemble the pris- 
oners, address them in a style of charming tenderness ill 1 
her own, win their assent to regulations for their conduct 
which she proposed, shake hands with them, give and re- 
ceive blessings, return to the keeper's room, and be re- 
ceived by him with almost as much astonishment and awe 
as Darius exhibited towards Daniel, when he emerged 
from the den of lions. 

In this way, Mrs. Fry made frequent examinations of 
the prisons in England. She pursued her holy work on 
the Continent, visiting prisons in France, Holland, Ger- 
many, Denmark, Belgium and Prussia. In the early pail 
of her career, she encountered both at home and abroad, 
some rudeness and many rebuffs. But her neverrspenl 
dignity, tact, and kindness, at length won the confidence 
and plaudits of the great majority of her own country- 
men, and of many philanthropists and titled personages 
in other Jands. 



THE HOOD ALONE ARE GREAT. £28 



QUESTIONS FOR ILLUSTRATION. 

1 . What qualities or virtues, do you peeceive in the 
character of Mrs. Pry. that are most worthy of respect 
and admiration? 

2. Did Mrs. Fry exhibit physical courage 1 ? — moral 
courage ? — sel Menial ? 

3. Which would, exhibit the greater courage, the soldier 
in going forth to the Battle-field, armed for deadly con- 
flict, or Mrs. Fry, going among raving maniacs, unpro- 
tected, and armed with no weapons of force? 

4. How docs the soldier, on the battle-field, expect to 
conquer, by -weapons of force, or moral weapons? 

5. How did Mrs. Fry expect to conquer, by moral 
weapons, or by force? 

6. Could the common soldier, probably lay aside all 
his weapons of force, and go in among maniacs, as did 
Mrs. Fry, and compose them and control them, as she 
did? ( Jan most persons do as she did? Why not? 

7. Which do you think the higher and nobler method 
of achieving victories, by moral means, or by force? 

S. Persons who can devise and execute, successfully, 
great plans in business, or great plans in war, or great 
plans of government, are usually considered great. May- 
all such plans show greatness of mind, and still not ex- 
hibit moral greatness? 

9. What difference do you perceive between greatness 
of mind and moral greatness 1 ? 



224 ELEMENTARY MORAL LESSONS. 

10. Do you see any thing in the courage, in the motives, 
in the self-denial, and in the objects of the men ofClapham 
and Kingston who went to Ireland to relieve the starving, 
the sick and dying, that differs from the courage, the 
self-denial and objects of the common soldier? 

11. Which do you think the higher order of greatness. 
greatness of mind, or 'moral greatness? 

12. Can any action, or plan, or achievement, be truly 
great, or belong to the highest order of greatness, that is 
not right? — that is not both good and right? 

13. Can any person be truly great, who has not learned 
to conquer himself? — who does not, or will not practice 
self-denial? — who does not possess moral courage? — who 
does not cultivate purity of heart? — who does not love 
others, and seek their welfare? 

14. Who, then, can be truly great who is not good? 

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